u 

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THE  LEADER 


OX  CALIF-  LIBRARY.  LOS 


But  he  did  not  look  at  the  face  of  the  watch ;  instead,  he  opened 
the  back  and  held  it  toward  her." 

See  page  jjy. 


The    Leader 


'C     (CTo,  M  s 
By  MARY  DILLON 


Author  of  "  TA*  KOJ*  of  Old  St.  Louis" 
and  "/»  Old  Bellaire" 


Illustrated  by  Ruth    M.  Hallock 


NEW  YORK 

Doubleday,    Page   &  Company 
1906 


Copyright,  1906,  by 

Doubleday,  Page  &  Company 

Published,  September,  1906 

All  rights  reserved 

including  that  of  translation  into  foreign  languages, 
including  the  Scandinavian 


MY  STERNEST  CRITIC 

AND 
MOST  GENEROUS  ADMIRER 


2129328 


FOREWORD 

IN  an  earlier  story  I  have  made  a  claim  for  historical 
accuracy — in  this  one  I  desire  to  make  a  counter-claim. 
My  story  is  in  no  sense  history.  If  I  have  used  some 
incidents  familiar  to  every  one,  it  was  only  because  they 
were  in  themselves  picturesque  and  lent  themselves 
readily  to  the  purposes  of  a  writer  of  fiction;  and,  having 
become  common  property  through  the  medium  of  the 
newspapers,  they  had  become  mine  to  use  as  I  would. 

For  the  rest,  my  story  is  fiction  pure  and  simple  and 
cannot  even  claim  to  be  a  "novel  with  a  purpose." 
Its  sole  purpose  is  to  tell  the  story  of  two  lives  as  pleas- 
antly as  may  be,  and  as  much  for  the  gratification  of  the 
writer  as  for  the  edification  of  the  reader. 

MARY  DILLON. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Prologue    3 

Chapter       I.    An  Invitation  to  tea 19 

II.     "We're  all  Good  Patriots" 26 

"         III.    An  Entering  Wedge 32 

"          IV.    Electioneering 49 

"  V.    On  the  Eve  of  the  Conflict 66 

"          VI.  A    Man's    Deliberations:    A    Wo- 
man's Intuitions 76 

VII.     'Tia  Elisa 90 

"       VIII.    A  Farmer's  Enthusiasm 104 

"  IX.    "Give  Us  Dalton!" 122 

"  X.    Put  to  the  Test 138 

"          XI.     Dalton's  Scheme 148 

XII.    A  Good  Night's  Work 155 

"       XIII.    In  the  Early  Dawn 166 

"       XIV.    Peyton  Makes  a  Mistake 171 

"         XV.    A  Promise  with  a  Condition 176 

"       XVI.    Flight  from  Defeat 192 

"     XVII.    Another  Opportunity 202 

"    XVIII.    An  Unexpected  Turn. 217 

"       XIX.    Miss  Molly's  Message 227 

XX.    In  the  South  Woods 243 

"       XXI.    Storm  at  Beauvoir 260 

"     XXII.  Margaret  Tears  a  Note  to  Pieces. . .  278 

"    XXIII.    Yes  or  No? 295 

"    XXIV.    God  Bless  Peggy! 301 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS— Concluded 


Chapter    XXV. 

XXVI. 

"      XXVII. 

"     XXVIII. 


PAGE. 

The  Man  from  the  West 313 

Peyton  Writes  a  Letter 328 

The  Deus  ex  Machina 338 

"For  the  Land's  Sake!". .  .  354 


LIST  OF  CHARACTERS 

JOHN  DALTON,  a  political  idol 
MARGARET  LE  BEAU,  A  bachelor  maid 

PEYTON  LE  BEAU,  Margaret's  somewhat  cynical  but  adoring 
elder  brother 

HUGH  KENT,  A   Kentwick    Squire   and  a   thorough   good 
fellow 

MRS.  PAXTON,  A  charming  widow,  sister  to  Hugh 
JULIE  DELAUNEY,  A  perennially  young  woman 

FRANK  SETON,  Bashful,  but  true  gentleman  and  loyal  friend 
to  Dalton 

'TiA  ELISA,  A  dear  old  spinster 

Miss  MOLLY,  Station  master  at  Kentwick 

MINOR  CHARACTERS,  (Politicians,   society   people,  Negroes 
and  others) 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

"  But  he  did  not  look  at  the  face  of  the  watch  ; 
instead  he  opened  the  back  and  held  it  toward 
her  " Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

"The  look  of  amazement  on  the  rider's  face 
changed  quickly  to  a  frown" 16 

"There  was  the  clatter  of  hoofs  on  the  red  gravel 
of  the  drive  " 94 

"  When  Dalton  rose  for  the  second  time  to  close 
the  debate,  the  vast  hall  was  almost  breath- 
less"    144 


THE  LEADER 


THE  LEADER. 

PROLOGUE 

THE  way  train  for  San  Carlos  was  standing  on  the  sid- 
ing, waiting  for  the  great  through  flyer  from  the  west  to 
go  thundering  by  on  the  main  track.  As  it  had  drawn 
up  to  the  little  station  of  Kentwick,  its  conductor  had 
sprung  off  and  darted  into  the  station  house,  while  the 
engineer  merely  slowed  down,  expecting  the  conductor 
to  be  back  in  time  to  catch  the  rear  step  of  the  last  car. 

"Any  orders,  Miss  Molly?"  the  conductor  shouted,  as 
he  stuck  his  head  in  the  door  but  left  his  feet  outside,  pre- 
pared to  turn  and  run  for  his  train  at  the  expected  "No !" 

"Who  are  you?"  asked  Miss  Molly  with  exasperating 
deliberateness. 

"I'm  sixty-five." 

"For  the  1-a-n-d-s  sake!"  ejaculated  Miss  Molly.  "You 
oughta  been  here  at  eight  o'clock,  and  now  its  ten." 

"I  know.  But  hurry  up  will  you?  That's  a  good 
girl!  Any  orders?" 

"Sure!  Your'e  to  wait  for  number  two,  and  you'd 
better  get  off  that  main  line  mighty  quick;  I'm  expectin' 
her  down  any  minute." 

The  conductor  turned,  signalled  his  orders  to  the  engin- 
eer and  ran  forward  to  throw  the  switch  himself  rather 
than  wait  for  a  brakesman.  His  signal  meant,  "Hurry 
on  to  the  siding,  number  two's  coming  down  the  road," 


4  THE  LEADER 

and  the  engineer  lost  no  time  in  obeying. 

But  as  is  the  fashion  with  through  trains,  number  two 
was  late,  and  the  short  local  lay  simmering  on  the  siding 
in  the  hot  September  sun,  a  full  half  hour.  There  were 
but  two  coaches,  a  smoker  and  one  other,  denominated  by 
the  polite  conductor,  "a  ladies  coach."  In  this  rear 
coach  there  were  but  few  passengers  and  most  of  those 
were  well-dressed,  with  the  sleek  look  that  belongs  to  the 
city-bred.  Most  of  them  too  were  women  or  young  girls, 
going  out  from  the  great  city  not  far  away  to  spend  a  day 
in  the  country,  and  vainly  fretting  at  the  repeated  delays 
that  were  spoiling  their  holiday. 

A  young  man,  seated  well  in  the  rear  of  the  car  and  on 
the  side  next  the  station,  would  have  caught  the  eye  of 
an  observing  passenger  entering  the  train  from  his  very 
unlikeness  to  the  dainty  creatures  in  light  summer  robes, 
or  the  few  slim  well-groomed  youths  accompanying 
them.  A  farmer  lad,  from  his  rough  dress,  his  stoical, 
almost  stolid  patience  was  in  fine  contrast  to  their  fum- 
ing impatience. 

Yet  there  was  not  one  on  the  car  to  whom  these  fre- 
quent delays  meant  so  much  as  to  him.  For  years  he 
had  been  looking  forward  to  this  day  when  he  should 
enter,  a  Freshman,  the  little  western  college  at  San  Car- 
los, that  seemed  to  him  all  that  the  great  universities 
seem  to  a  more  sophisticated  boy.  He  had  worked  hard 
and  lived  meagerly,  saving  every  penny  for  this  day,  and 
now  when  his  heart  was  throbbing  tumultuously  and  his 
brain  whirling  at  the  thought  of  being  so  near  his 
goal,  every  moment  of  delay  was  well-nigh  intolerable. 


Yet  his  face  might  have  been  the  masque  of  some  rugged 
old  Roman  so  unmoved  it  seemed,  and  only  the  closest 
observer  would  have  noted  that  the  strong  square  jaw 
was  set  in  a  grim  determination  to  hold  himself  quiet, 
and  the  keen  gray  eyes  under  the  shock  of  dark  brown 
hau*  occasionally  emitted  fiery  flashes  like  the  spurts  of 
flame  that  burst  uncontrollably  from  ,  mouldering 
fires. 

Nothing  escaped  his  observation;  the  silly  speeches  of 
the  youths  and  the  simpering  consciousness  with  which 
the  maidens  received  them,  won  from  him  half  scorn 
and  half  admiration.  He  envied  the  ease  with  which 
the  speeches  were  made  while  he  mentally  sneered  at 
their  vapidity,  and  wondered  at  the  favor  with  which 
they  were  received  by  creatures  who  had  seemed  to  him 
at  first  glance  to  be  of  far  finer  mould,  and  doubtless  on 
a  higher  intellectual  plane  than  any  he  had  hitherto 
known.  He  was  a  young  man  of  rapid  mental  processes ; 
and  'he  speedily  came  to  the  conclusion  that  they 
were  like  all  their  class.  He  had  known  nothing  of  the 
world's  upper  stratum,  but  from  occasional  distant 
glimpses  of  it  he  had  unconsciously  idealized  it,  and  set 
for  himself  as  a  goal  to  one  day  enter  it  and  be  of  it. 
Now  with  the  sweeping  generalizations  of  youth  he 
decided  that  what  had  so  attracted  him  by  its  glitter 
in  the  distance  was  on  nearer  view  only  tinsel;  and 
with  a  youth's  arrogance,  believing  himself  intellectually 
the  superior  of  the  members  of  that  charmed  circle 
he  had  once  thought  so  far  above  him,  none 


6  THE  LEADER 

the  less  did  he  hold  to  his  determination  to  enter  it 
and  dominate  it. 

He  had  heard  the  brief  conversation  between  the  con- 
ductor and  Miss  Molly,  and  now — having  finally  settled 
the  mental  status  of  his  companions  in  the  car — he  was 
idly  watching  the  by-play  between  her  and  a  little  circle 
of  her  admirers.  The  engineer  had  left  his  engine  with 
the  fireman  and  had  joined  the  conductor  and  brakesman 
in  idly  chaffing  Miss  Molly;  and  she  was  enjoying  the 
chaffing  and  holding  her  own,  turning  their  clumsy 
shafts  of  wit  with  ready  and  loud-voiced  retorts.  Evi- 
dently Miss  Molly  was  a  character  and  a  favorite  with 
the  trainmen  on  the  line;  and  the  young  man  watching 
her,  thought  she  compared  very  favorably  with  the  but- 
terflies in  the  car,  her  face  shining  with  amiability,  and 
her  ready  tongue  drawing  roars  of  laughter  from  her 
rough  audience,  as  one  after  the  other  came  under  its 
lash. 

The  neat  little  station-house  with  its  tiny  garden, 
Miss  Molly's  pride,  glowing  with  autumn  blooms — flaunt- 
ing cannas,  deep  hued  dahlias,  golden  marigolds,  gentle 
petunias,  all  blended  together  with  the  soft  white  mist 
of  the  sweet  elyssum — was  set  in  a  vast  field  of  the  cloth 
of  gold.  The  wonderful  Golden  Glow  of  the  West 
seethed  round  it  in  great  billows  of  bloom  that  threat- 
ened to  drown  it  in  radiance,  and  then  rolled  away  in 
undulating  swells  till  it  met  the  serried  ranks  of  bannered 
corn  sweeping  up  distant  ridges  to  their  wooded  crests. 
Young  John  Dalton  knew  enough  of  the  geography  of 


THE  LEADER  7 

his  native  state  to  know  that  he  was  in  the  famous 
Florissant  valley — foremost  among  the  fertile  valleys  of 
the  world — and  his  practiced  eye  took  in  the  signs  of  that 
amazing  fertility  in  the  luxuriance  of  vegetation  that 
oppressed  him  with  its  sense  of  opulence. 

At  he  foot  of  a  ridge  not  far  away  between  the  rolling 
meadows  of  gold  and  the  rising  ranks  of  corn, 
there  wound  the  white  ribbon  of  a  country  road;  and 
down  this  road  there  came  driving  now  a  little  equipage 
that  made  John's  untravelled  eyes  open  wide.  From 
a  distance  it  was  like  nothing  he  had  ever  seen,  and  when 
it  turned  sharply  at  right  angles  from  the  white  road 
into  the  short  stretch  of  dark  loam  that  led  directly 
through  the  low  fields  to  the  station,  a  nearer  view  did 
not  detract  from  its  strangeness  to  him.  Presently  it 
drew  up  in  the  rear  of  the  station :  two  tiny  white  Shet- 
land ponies  harnessed  tandem  to  a  dainty  little  pony- 
cart.  On  the  seat  of  the  cart,  holding  the  driving  reins, 
was  a  little  girl  of  eight  or  ten  with  a  glory  of  red  gold 
curls  falling  over  the  broad  collar  of  her  pale  blue  sailor 
suit,  and  erect  by  her  side,  with  an  intelligent  air  of 
guardianship,  a  beautiful  glossy-haired  collie. 

The  child  wound  the  reins  around  the  whip-stock  and 
sprang  lightly  from  the  cart,  the  dog  following  her  with 
a  bound.  John  Dalton  watched  her  with  interest;  she 
was  a  new  species  to  him — the  child  of  many  genera- 
tions of  wealth  and  culture,  and  beautiful  as  an  angel  to 
his  unaccustomed  eyes. 

She  ran  lightly  around  the  station-house  to  where 
Miss  Molly  was  holding  court. 


8  THE  LEADER 

"Miss  Molly!  Miss  Molly!"  she  cried  eagerly,  "Has  the 
ten-fifteen  come  in?" 

Miss  Molly  looked  up  brightly  with  a  smile. 

"No,  Peggy  dear,  it's  waitin'  down  at  Franklin  for  the 
flyer  to  pass  it." 

"Will  it  be  here  very  soon,  do  you  think?"  asked  the 
child  anxiously. 

"Not  for  fifteen  minutes  anyway,  Honey,  perhaps 
longer.  It's  too  bad!  There's  such  a  time  with  trains 
to-day  on  account  of  the  big  wash-out  down  the  road 
yesterday." 

Much  to  Miss  Molly's  astonishment,  the  child  did  not 
seem  to  think  it  was  too  bad. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad!  Now  I'll  have  time,"  clapping  her 
hands  rapturously.  "Come  Shep,  we  must  hurry!" 

Child  and  dog  bounded  across  the  road  and  were  swal- 
lowed up  in  the  golden  glow  reaching  high  above  their 
heads.  In  a  few  minutes  they  emerged,  the  child  bearing 
in  her  arms  a  great  mass  of  the  brilliant  blooms — hardly 
more  golden  than  her  own  bright  locks — and  began  at 
once  to  decorate  the  two  ponies  quickly  and  skillfully. 
As  she  finished,  she  stepped  back  and  viewed  her  work 
critically,  head  on  one  side,  then  she  tripped  forward 
and  with  a  deft  touch  here  and  there,  arranged  them 
more  to  her  satisfaction. 

John,  watching  her  with  interest,  thought  the  result 
a  little  queer  but  undeniably  picturesque :  clusters  of  nod- 
ding yellow  flowers  at  the  ears  of  the  ponies,  masses  of 
them  drooping  like  golden  saddle  cloths  over  their  white 
haunches,  and  a  tall  bunch  of  them  erect  in  the  whip- 


THE  LEADER  9 

stock. 

The  child  was  evidently  pleased  with  her  work;  she 
shook  her  finger  at  the  ponies  with  a  parting  admoni- 
tion: 

"Now  Jack  and  Jill 

Be  good  and  stand  still," 

and  ran  away,  laughing  at  her  rhyme,  to  interview  Miss 
Molly  once  more. 

"Is  it  time  yet,  Miss  Molly?"  And  this  time  her  anx- 
iety was  evidently  not  that  the  train  should  delay  but 
that  it  should  hurry. 

"Not  quite,  dear,"  said  Miss  Molly,  patting  her  golden 
curls,  "But  there!  for  the  1-a-n-d-s  sake!  if  that  aint  the 
flyer  now  whistlin'  at  Bridgeford.  It'll  be  here  in  a  min- 
ute, Honey,  and  then  it  won't  be  five  minutes  more  till 
your  train  comes." 

John  Dalton's  gaze,  wandering  from  the  pretty  child 
to  her  ponies  saw  a  tragedy  being  enacted.  Jack,  the 
wheel  pony,  was  calmly  and  perfidiously  stretching  his 
neck  and  making  a  dainty  meal  off  of  Jill's  rear  decora- 
tions. John,  always  ready  to  help  a  child  in  trouble, 
shouted  out  of  the  car  window, 

"Hello!  Peggy,  look  at  Jack!" 

The  child,  startled  by  the  cry,  looked  first  at  him  and 
saw  a  rugged  face,  brown  with  the  suns  of  many  harvest 
fields,  and  a  hand  sinewy  from  much  acquaintance  with 
plough-handle  and  axe,  pointing  to  her  ponies.  She 
turned  to  look  at  Jack,  who  was  at  that  moment  tugging 
with  his  teeth  at  a  particularly  beautiful  bunch  of  Jill's 
decorations,  so  securely  fastened  in  the  harness  as  to 


10  THE  LEADER 

successfully  resist  his  pulls. 

In  a  moment  the  child's  face  was  transformed  from 
angelic  sweetness  to  rage.  She  ran,  shrieking  at  Jack 
as  she  ran,  and  catching  him  by  the  head,  soundly  and 
deliberately  and  repeatedly,  boxed  first  one  ear  and  then 
the  other.  Her  tiny  hand  could  not  have  hurt  the  pony 
much,  but  none  the  less  was  it  an  exhibition  of  fury,  and 
for  some  inexplicable  reason  it  hurt  John — she  had  seemed 
so  like  a  little  angel  to  him. 

Whether  the  child  felt  his  rebuking  eyes  or  not,  she 
suddenly  glanced  at  him  and  as  she  met  his  gaze  a  pain- 
ful wave  of  crimson  swept  over  the  little  face  and  the 
golden  head  drooped — a  picture  of  shame  and  repentance. 

At  that  moment  the  great  flyer  thundered  by,  and  as 
the  long  train  went  rolling  on,  John's  own  train  began  to 
move,  and  by  the  time  the  flyer  had  passed,  they  were 
so  far  beyond  the  station  that  a  clump  of  bushes  on  a 
high  bank  hid  station  and  ponies,  and  the  pathetic  droop- 
ing figure  of  the  child. 


Through  the  four  years  of  his  college  life — years  of 
struggle  such  as  his  soul  delighted  in,  crowned  by  suc- 
cesses that  but  nerved  him  to  renewed  leffort — John 
Dalton  thought  often  of  the  drooping  childish  figure,  and 
always  with  a  vague  regret  that  he  had  not  been  able 
to  assure  her  with  a  smile  of  his  restored  respect. 

But  the  four  years  were  over,  and  knapsack  on  shoul- 
der and  a  few  dollars  in  his  pocket,  John  turned  his  face 
to  the  great  world  with  high-hearted  courage.  The  few 


THE  LEADER  11 

dollars  were  the  last  of  the  little  hoard  that,  eked  out  by 
the  money  earned  in  harvest  fields  through  the  long  vaca- 
tions, had  carried  him  safely  through  the  four  years  of 
college.  Now  there  were  no  more  harvest  fields  for  him. 
Life  must  begin  in  earnest  and  at  once,  and  not  a  cent 
of  that  little  hoard  should  be  wasted  in  railroad  fare. 

So  a  radiant  morning  in  early  June  found  him  once 
more  in  the  beautiful  Florissant  valley,  tramping  gaily 
along  the  white  ribbon  of  road  down  which  he  had  seen 
the  strange  little  equipage  come.  Neither  the  brilliant 
gold  of  September  fields  nor  the  purple  tassels  of  climb- 
ing corn  outlined  the  white  road  to-day,  but  everywhere 
was  the  rich  verdure  of  June,  with  garlands  of  wild  rose 
flung  over  low  stone  walls  and  scarlet  trumpet  creepers 
drooping  from  oak  and  maple. 

The  spring  of  the  year  was  in  his  veins.  The  song  of 
the  thrushes  came  down  to  him  from  high  groves  crest- 
ing the  ridge  above  him,  and  his  heart  answered  with  a 
happier  song.  He  was  a  soldier  marching  confidently  to 
battle  with  his  enemy  the  world,  and  in  glorious  visions 
he  already  beheld  his  foe  beneath  his  feet.  No  soldier 
could  have  borne  himself  more  proudly  erect  than  he, 
his  fine  head  with  its  close  crop  of  dark  brown  curls  held 
high,  his  grey  eyes  glowing  with  the  fires  of  resolve  and 
courage. 

The  road  turned  sharply  at  right  angles;  he  glanced  up 
at  a  sign-post  and  read,  "Le  Beau  Way."  Yes,  he  was 
on  the  right  road.  He  was  to  follow  Le  Beau  Way  until, 
in  its  passage  from  one  rich  plantation  to  another,  it  had 
made  four  right-angled  turns  and  entered  the  Natural 


12  THE  LEADER 

Bridge  Rock  Road  leading  straight  to  the  great  city. 
This  was  the  fourth  day  of  his  long  tramp  and  it  would 
be  his  last.  He  was  hardly  more  than  fifteen  miles  from 
his  goal;  his  steps  quickened  but  could  not  keep  pace 
with  his  eager  thoughts. 

He  had  been  for  some  time  passing  the  white  fences 
that  enclosed  a  great  country  place:  first  wide  fields  of 
grain,  billowing  in  the  light  summer  breeze;  then  rich 
pastures  dotted  with  browsing  Jerseys  and  blooded 
horses;  a  cluster  of  barns  and  stables  and  farm  buildings; 
nearer  the  house,  orchards  and  gardens;  then  a  high 
osage  hedge  shutting  in  the  stately  trees  and  close  cut 
turf  of  an  extended  lawn  rolling  gently  upwards  to 
where  amid  dense  foliage  he  discovered  the  chimneys  of 
a  great  house;  and  to  himself  he  said — Just  such  a  coun- 
try place  should  be  his  own  one  day. 

He  was  nearing  an  avenue  of  tall  lindens  leading  up  to 
the  house.  What  impelled  him  at  that  moment  to  break 
into  a  rollicking  college  song,  he  did  not  know,  but  his 
yielding  to  the  impulse  came  near  to  having  disastrous 
results.  The  red  gravel  of  the  drive  turned  sharply  into 
the  white  road  of  Le  Beau  Way,  and  around  that  steep 
turn  came  at  this  moment  a  tandem  team,  not  of  white 
Shetland  ponies,  but  of  small  Indian  horses  bright  bay  in 
color.  He  looked  quickly  up,  expecting  to  see  the  little 
child  of  four  years  before,  but  he  had  only  time  to  note 
a  tall  slim  girl  of  twelve  or  thirteen  and  a  glory  of  red 
gold  hair,  when  he  saw  that  the  horses,  startled  by  the 
sudden  sound  of  his  voice,  were  plunging  and  rearing 
and  threatening  to  upset  the  little  cart  on  the  steep  turn. 


THE  LEADER  13 

As  John  sprang  to  the  head  of  the  leader,  a  girl's  high 
treble  voice  rang  out  in  shrill  command: 

"Let  go  that  horse's  head,  Sir !  Let  go  at  once,  I  say ! 
How  dare  you  touch  my  horses!" 

John,  fearing  for  the  girl's  safety,  did  not  let  go,  nor, 
until  he  had  quieted  the  two  plunging  horses,  did  he  look 
at  their  driver.  Then  he  saw  the  child  of  four  years 
before,  grown  a  little  older,  and  because  he  had  not 
obeyed  her  command,  she  was  bending  on  him  much  the 
same  angry  frown  that  had  disfigured  the  beautiful  face 
then,  when  it  was  the  pony  that  had  offended  her. 

Yet  he  saw  something  more  than  anger  in  the  child's 
face,  and  it  flashed  into  his  mind  that  she  was  afraid  of 
him;  and  her  drawn  brows  and  blazing  eyes  were  but  the 
childish  expression  of  high-hearted  courage  that  would 
not  yield  to  fear.  No  doubt  he  looked  like  a  tramp  in 
his  dusty  clothes  with  his  pack  on  his  back.  He  looked 
up  at  her  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye : 

"I'm  no  tramp,  Peggy,  and  you  mustn't  mind  my  stop- 
ping your  horses  since  I  started  them." 

John  Dalton  was  nearly  twenty-six  years  old — for  he 
had  been  late  in  entering  college  since  he  must  first  earn 
his  way — and  a  girl  of  twelve  or  thirteen  was  but  the 
verie  t  child  in  his  eyes,  and  he  did  not  dream  he  was 
offering  her  any  impertinence  in  calling  her  by  her  name. 
But  the  child  was  feeling  the  stirrings  of  the  woman  and 
would  have  resented  such  familiarity  from  any  stranger, 
much  more  from  one  whom  she  judged  from  his  clothes 
to  be  the  creature  she  most  despised  and  feared,  a  com- 
mon tramp.  Her  first  impulse  was  of  hot  indig- 


14  THE  LEADER 

nation,  but  fast  on  the  heels  of  the  indignation — quench- 
ing the  scorn  in  her  eyes — came  a  wonder  that  he  should 
have  known  her  name,  and  stealing  after  the  wonder,  a 
vague  remembrance,  gradually  growing  clearer,  of  just 
such  kindly  grey  eyes  beaming  from  under  dark  brown 
curls. 

Four  years  of  student  life  had  worn  off  some  of  the  tan 
from  the  rugged  cheeks,  and  there  had  been  lines  in  them 
four  years  before  that  were  smoothed  away  to-day,  but 
it  was  still  the  face  that  had  haunted  Peggy's  childish 
dreams  with  an  intolerable  sense  of  shame,  and  once 
more  the  hot  crimson  flamed  in  her  face  and  the  golden 
head  drooped. 

The  keen  grey  eyes  had  followed  every  changing  emo- 
tion of  the  child's  mind,  and  now  he  saw  that  she  remem- 
bered. 

"Why  Peggy!"  he  cried,  "I  believe  you  know  me  I 
What's  become  of  Jack  and  Jill?  Does  Jack  still  have 
to  have  his  ears  boxed?" 

The  child  looked  up  at  him  shyly,  still  half-ashamed, 
but  she  could  not  withstand  his  gay  good  humor;  she 
broke  into  a  merry  laugh. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "I  was  very  angry  that  day  and  I  have 
always  been  ashamed  of  it  since — but  he  was  funny, 
wasn't  he,  eating  up  Jill's  flowers  so  calmly." 

"Funny!  he  was  screamingly  funny!  I've  thought 
about  you  and  Jack  and  Jill  many  a  time  off  at  college 
these  four  years." 

"Have  you  been  to  college?"  Peggy  asked,  looking  at 
him  wonderingly  and  half  doubting.  All  her  experi- 


THE  LEADER  15 

ence  of  college  men  was  of  fine  clothes  and  elegant  man- 
ners— he  was  not  her  idea  of  a  college  man. 

"Yes,"  said  John,  "I've  just  finished,  and  now  I'm  off 
to  tackle  the  world.  I  saw  you  the  day  I  started  for 
college  and  I  believe  it  brought  me  good  luck.  I'm  glad 
I  met  you  again  to-day  when  I'm  just  starting  out  to 
whip  the  world — you  must  be  my  mascot." 

The  child  had  forgotten  her  scorn  of  his  dusty  clothes 
and  was  regarding  him  with  a  bright  look  of  interest  in 
her  blue  eyes. 

"Am  I?"  she  asked  with  shy  pleasure,  "I  know  what  a 
mascot  is — I'll  make  you  win  your  fight.  But  how  will 
I  know  if  you  do  win?" 

"I'll  come  back  some  day  and  tell  you,"  said  John 
gaily.  He  liked  children  and  especially  he  liked  this 
one  who  belonged  to  a  class  he  had  only  known  in  books 
and  dreams. 

"Will  it  be  long?"  asked  Peggy  still  more  pleased  at 
his  promise. 

That  sobered  John  for  a  minute. 

"I  can't  tell  little  Peggy.    I  hope  not  very  long." 

"Perhaps  I  won't  know  you,  or  perhaps  you  won't 
know  me."  The  child  spoke  wistfully  for  this  was  a 
fight  she  had  a  share  in,  and  hers  was  a  spirit  that  loved 
deeds  of  valor  and  she  longed  to  know  the  result. 

"Very  likely  you  will  forget  me,  little  Peggy,"  said 
John,  "but  I  would  always  know  you  by  your  golden 
locks  like  Criemhild's."  And  then  he  added,  partly  to 
please  the  child  and  partly  from  some  feeling  he  did  not 
stop  to  explain: 


16  THE  LEADER 

"I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do.  You  give  me  a  tiny  curl 
and  I'll  keep  it  till  I  come  back,  and  if  it's  ever  so  many 
years  and  you've  forgotten  all  about  me,  I'll  show  it  to 
you  and  then  you'll  remember." 

Peggy  hesitated.  She  was  not  quite  sure  that  was  the 
right  thing  to  do,  but  his  eyes  looked  so  kind  and  good  it 
could  not  be  very  wrong.  So  she  held  out  the  tip  of  a 
shining  spiral  to  John's  ready  pocket-knife  and  in  a  mo- 
ment the  wisp  of  gold  lay  in  John's  hand  and  with  extrav- 
agant care  he  was  depositing  it  inside  of  an  old  letter 
he  had  taken  from  his  pocket. 

"Now,"  said  John  soberly,  "when  I'm  President  of  the 
United  States  and  you're  a  beautiful  young  lady,  and  I 
come  to  call  on  you,  and  you  say — "I  do  not  know  you, 
Sir,"  I'll  show  you  the  little  curl  and  ;ay — "Behold, 
Fair  Lady,  the  golden  talisman  that  has  brought  me 
wealth  and  renown!"  What  will  you  say  then  little 
Goldie-locks?" 

But  John  saw  from  the  child's  shining  eyes  that  she 
was  taking  him  seriously  and  he  threw  back  his  head  and 
broke  into  a  jolly  laugh;  partly  because  it  seemed  to  him 
a  matter  for  laughter,  but  partly  also  that  the  child 
might  know  it  was  but  jest.  And  after  a  moment  of 
wondering  regard,  Peggy's  merry  ripple  of  laughter 
joined  his. 

Above  the  glossy  leaves  of  the  osage  orange  hedge, 
pricked  the  tips  of  a  horse's  ears,  and  around  the  steep 
turn  of  the  drive  came  a  rider.  John's  quick  glance 
noted  the  slim  elegance  of  the  figure  in  high  riding  boots 
and  breeches  of  latest  fashion,  and  then  noted  also  the 


"The  look  of  amazement  on  the  rider's  face  changed  quickly  to  a 
frown." 


THE  LEADER  17 

look  of  amazement  on  the  rider's  face  change  quickly  to 
a  frown  at  the  sight  of  the  child  in  merry  parley  with  a 
strange  man  of  rough  and  dusty  aspect. 

"Peggy!"  he  called  sternly,  "What  does  this  mean? 
Why  are  you  hob-nobbing  with  a  tramp  in  this  fashion?" 

Now  John  liked  not  to  be  called  a  tramp  at  any  time, 
and  particularly  he  liked  it  not  before  the  pretty  child. 
He  drew  himself  up  quickly,  lifted  his  hat  and  was  about 
to  say  good  bye,  but  Peggy's  aspect  stopped  him.  Her 
face  was  ablaze  with  generous  indignation,  and  her  voice 
was  ringing. 

"Peyton!  how  dare  you  speak  so  to  one  of  my  friends! 
He  is  no  tramp;  he  is  a  college  man  like  you  and  Mr. 
Kent!" 

Then  she  turned  quickly  to  John,  fearing  greatly  that 
his  feelings  had  been  hurt  by  her  brother's  rudeness. 

"You  must  excuse  my  brother,  sir,"  she  said  with  gen- 
tle dignity,  "he  does  not  understand.  But  I  have  been 
very  much  pleased  to  meet  you  again  and  I  shall  hope  to 
see  you  when  you  are  President."  And  with  a  gracious 
air  well  befitting  a  young  duchess,  she  extended  her  hand. 

Her  brother  was  looking  on  with  the  frown  growing 
deeper  as  she  so  boldly  braved  his  displeasure.  Not  for 
a  moment  did  he  doubt  that  the  man  was  a  tramp  who 
had  deluded  the  child  with  some  cock  and  bull  story  of 
being  a  gentleman  and  a  scholar  But  John  was  not  to 
be  outdone  in  courage  by  the  girl.  If  she  could  brave 
her  brother's  wrath,  then  so  could  he.  He  took  the 
extended  hand. 


18  THE  LEADER 

"Good-bye  Peggy,"  he  said,  "I  shall  not  forget.  Auj 
wiedersehen!" 

He  gently  dropped  her  hand,  took  off  his  hat  with  a 
wide  sweep,  and  without  glancing  toward  her  brother, 
into  whose  face  a  look  of  slow  wonder,  effacing  the  frown, 
had  gradually  crept,  he  turned  and  strode  quickly  up 
Le  Beau  Way;  not  once  looking  back  until  the  next 
right-angled  turn  hid  child  and  tandem  and  haughty 
rider  from  his  sight.  And  so,  on  over  the  hard  white  rib- 
bon of  road  beneath  overhanging  maples  and  lindens, 
until  two  more  turns  had  brought  him  into  the  Natural 
Bridge  Rock  Road,  winding  over  hill  and  through  valley, 
a  broad  high-way  to  the  great  city  fifteen  miles  away. 


CHAPTER  I. 

AN  INVITATION  TO  TEA 

"Peyton,  what  do  you  say  to  spending  the  Fourth  at 
the  Fair?" 

Peyton  Le  Beau  looked  up  from  the  egg  he  was  labor- 
iously and  anxiously  decapitating.  Nothing  would  have 
induced  him  to  eat  an  egg  in  any  other  fashion,  but  early 
training  and  long  years  of  practice  had  not  made  him 
skillful  at  it  and  it  would  probably,  to  the  end  of  time, 
continue  to  be  one  of  the  most  anxious  moments  of  his 
day  until  he  saw  the  neat  white  disk  laid  beside  his  egg 
cup,  and  no  disfiguring  yellow  blotches  on  shell  or  plate. 
An  ordinary  remark  would  not  have  caused  him  to  sus- 
pend the  delicate  operation;  with  a  murmured  "Pardon," 
he  would  have  gone  on  to  its  completion,  before  replying. 

But  this  was  no  ordinary  remark.  He  laid  down  his 
knife  deliberately — Peyton  Le  Beau  even  at  the  most 
intense  moment  could  be  nothing,  if  not  deliberate — and 
regarded  his  sister  curiously. 

"What  is  it  Margaret?  You  have  been  poring  over  the 
Herald  for  five  minutes;  is  there  some  unusual  Fourth  of 
July  attraction  offered  at  the  Fair?" 

Margaret  smiled.  It  was  an  inscrutable  smile  and 
her  brother,  who  knew  her  well,  was  sure  it  concealed 
some  hidden  reason  for  this  strange  whim  of  hers.  But 
she  answered  with  apparent  frankness: 


20  THE  LEADER 

"It's  our  first  Fourth  in  town,  and  we  ought  to  improve 
the  opportunity  to  hear  some  Fourth  of  July  speeches 
such  as  our  forefathers  listened  to.  I  think  I  should 
enjoy  a  patriotic  glow;  I  have  not  had  a  real  heart- 
warming one  since  the  Cuban  war." 

"It's  the  speeches,  is  it?  And  who  is  to  speak,  pray?" 

Margaret  hesitated  for  the  fraction  of  a  second,  while 
she  meditatively  stirred  her  coffee.  She  answered  care- 
lessly between  sips : 

"Oh,  a  lot  of  Senators  and  Honorables  I  believe.  I 
think  I  noticed  Senator  Brown  was  to  speak,  and — the 
Honorable  John  Dalton." 

Her  brother's  egg  was  neatly  decapitated;  he  leaned 
back  in  his  chair  and  rested  from  his  labors,  while  he 
surveyed  his  sister  with  an  amused  smile : 

"  'Still  harping  on  my  daughter!'  I  wish  you  would 
tell  me  what  there  is  in  that  back  number  that  interests 
you  so  much." 

It  could  hardly  be  said  that  Margaret  bridled.  She 
would  never  have  permitted  herself  such  a  childish 
expression  of  annoyance,  but  nevertheless  her  brother 
was  aware  of  a  fleeting  shadow  crossing  her  face  and  van- 
ishing in  a  pleasant  smile. 

"Am  I  always  harping  on  him?"  she  asked  amiably. 
"I  believe  I  am,  and  I  can't  tell  why  I  should  be  so  inter- 
ested in  him.  He  is  certainly  not  of  our  politics,  and  I 
know  none  of  our  friends  approve  of  him;  but  ever  since 
that  great  speech  four  years  ago  that  carried  the  conven- 
tion off  its  feet,  he  has  seemed  to  me  the  one  interesting 
figure  in  American  politics.  I  believe  it  is  because 


THE  LEADER  21 

he  stands  for  something.  He  is  fighting  for  a  principle — 
for  an  issue  at  least — and  no  one  else  in  either  party  seems 
to  have  any  particular  interest  in  anything  but  place  and 
power." 

Peyton  Le  Beau  formed  his  lips  for  a  soft  whistle,  but, 
remembering  himself  in  time,  refrained. 

"Margaret,"  he  said,  "am  I  to  believe  that  the  cool- 
headed  Miss  Le  Beau  whose  calm  brain  and  cold  heart 
have  proved  impregnable  barriers  to  every  suitor  lo, 
these  many  years;  am  I  to  believe  she  has  romantically 
idealized  a  man  she  has  never  seen?  A  man  that  his 
own  party  discredits  now,  and  whom  every  one  outside 
of  his  party  believes  to  be  a  political  demagogue  and  fil- 
libuster?  I  can  hardly  understand,  either,  how  a  blue- 
blooded  Le  Beau  can  take  such  interest  in  a  man  who 
smells  so  thoroughly  of  '  oi  polloi.'  " 

Margaret's  dainty  chin  was  set  in  a  fashion  that  her 
brother  was  in  the  habit  of  denominating  obstinate, 
when  he  had  not  succeeded  in  changing  her  way  of  think- 
ing to  his,  and  her  tones  were  of  the  even  coolness  that 
always  made  him  feel  vaguely  uncomfortable: 

"If  it  is  romantic  to  admire  a  noble  utterance  when  you 
hear  it — or  read  it — then  you  may  call  me  romantic  if 
you  like.  And  I  hope  that  being  a  Le  Beau  does  not 
necessarily  mean  such  narrowness  of  soul  as  you  intimate 
it  does.  I  have  often  heard  that  most  that  is  good  and 
great  comes  out  of  the  people." 

"Yes,"  said  her  brother,  with  a  whimsical  sigh,  "I 
believe  my  class  oration  expressed  some  such  sentiments. 
But  that  was  twenty  years  ago,  and  now  that  I  am 


22  THE  LEADER 

an  old  fellow  I've  come  to  believe  that  there's  nothing 
quite  so  comfortable  as  to  stick  to  your  own  class  in 
life — the  well-groomed  and  well-mannered  people  who 
if  they  do  not  startle  you  with  their  originality,  at  least 
do  not  rub  you  the  wrong  way  with  their  gaucheries." 

"That's  all  very  good  logic"  answered  Margaret 
calmly,  "Where  one's  friends  are  concerned — I  quite 
agree  with  you.  But  this  is  not  a  case  in  kind.  For 
four  years  I  have  greatly  'admired  Mr.  Dalton's  utter- 
ances; now  I  have  a  chance  to  hear  him  for  myself  and  I 
should  be  sorry  to  lose  it,  though  I  have  no  desire  to  make 
his  acquaintance,  for  no  doubt — " 

What  Margaret  did  not  doubt  did  not  appear,  for  the 
telephone  had  been  ringing  while  she  had  been  speak- 
ing and  now  a  maid  entered  and  announced  that  Mrs. 
Paxton  would  like  to  speak  to  Miss  Le  Beau. 

Her  brother  followed  her  graceful  figure  as  she  crossed 
the  room,  with  what  his  friends  were  wont  to  call  his 
"adoring  gaze."  It  was  a  standard  joke  with  them, — 
Peyton's  adoration  of  his  beautiful  sister, — and  there 
were  those  who  let  it  account  for  his  prolonged  bachelor 
state.  No  doubt  the  fact  that  they  two  had  been  left 
alone  in  the  world  when  Margaret  was  but  a  child,  requir- 
ing much  of  his  care  and  thought,  had  had  something  to 
do  with  it.  As  she  grew  older,  his  pride  was  satisfied 
by  her  beauty  and  accomplishments;  and  the  charm  of 
her  companionship  and  the  ease  and  grace  with  which 
she  presided  over  their  home,  prevented  his  feeling  any 
void  in  his  life  that  demanded  filling.  He  was  wont  to 


THE  LEADER  23 

say,  "When  Margaret  marries  I  will  begin  to  look  for  a 
wife." 

But  much  to  the  surprise  of  society  in  general  Margaret 
did  not  marry.  There  had  been  no  lack  of  suitors,  as 
her  brother  had  said,  but  she  had  gone  on  her  way  se- 
renely untouched  by  their  ardent  vows,  liking  them  all 
but  loving  none.  Of  course  society  had  offered  many 
explanations  for  this  state  of  affairs,  some  of  them  ami- 
able, some  otherwise,  but  had  settled  down  to  a  final 
conviction  that  either  Margaret  Le  Beau  was  cold  of 
heart  and  preferred  to  reign  over  many  rather  than  rule 
in  the  affections  of  one,  or  that  she  was  secretly  as 
devoted  to  her  brother  as  he  was  openly  to  her,  and  found 
their  home  life  together  as  perfectly  satisfying  as  he 
found  it. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  all  agreed  that  Margaret  had  eman- 
cipated herself.  Society  no  longer  tyrannized  over  her, 
driving  her  to  a  weary  round  of  receptions,  luncheons, 
balls  and  dinners.  She  used  society  now  for  her  own 
pleasure,  accepting  such  invitations  as  pleased  her,  and 
finding  a  way  to  decline  others  without  giving  offense. 
She  was  nearing  the  fateful  line  of  thirty  years,,  Per- 
ilously near,  the  gossips  said,  for  that  line  once  crossed 
meant  confirmed  spinsterhood,  than  which  there  could 
be  no  fate  more  awful  to  their  frivolous  minds.  Delight- 
fully near,  said  the  few  wise  souls  who  know  that  the 
most  charming  years  of  a  woman's  life  lie  in  that  summer 
land  between  thirty  and  forty,  when  all  the  crudenesses 
and  immaturities  which  we  forgive  to  the  very  young, 
but  cannot  admire,  have  vanished,  and  every  beauty  and 


24  THE  LEADER 

every  grace  has  rounded  and  ripened  to  an  exquisite  per- 
fection. 

Some  such  thoughts  as  these  flashed  into  Peyton's 
mind  as  his  sister  returned,  and  took  her  place  opposite 
him  at  the  round  table,  behind  the  massive  silver  tray 
bearing  the  old  fashioned  coffee  service  used  by  many 
generations  of  Le  Beaus.  A  bowl  of  late  roses  and  honey- 
suckles in  the  center  of  the  table  mingled  their  perfume 
with  the  fragrance  of  mocha.  Through  the  open  win- 
dows the  fresh  morning  ah-  brought  the  scents  and  sounds 
of  summer :  the  odor  of  newly  cut  grass,  the  song  of  the 
meadow  lark,  the  cool  plash  of  the  fountain  in  its  basin. 
Margaret  in  her  dainty  breakfast  gown  of  soft  white  mus- 
lin and  lace,  with  a  knot  of  pale  blue  ribbon  at  her  throat, 
the  morning  sun  turning  the  deep  bronze  waves  of  her 
hair  to  red  gold,  was  good  to  look  at.  Peyton  sighed 
unconsciously  with  a  delicious  sense  of  well-being,  then 
caught  himself  at  it  and  looked  up  with  a  smile: — 

"Well?"  he  asked,  "What  did  Mrs.  Paxton  want?" 

"She  invites  us  both  to  tea  at  the  New  York  building 
this  afternoon  at  five.  I  accepted  for  you  without  con- 
sulting you,  for  I  knew  if  we  were  out  at  the  Fair  listen- 
ing to  the  speeches  it  would  be  most  convenient." 

Peyton  smiled  again: 

"So  you  are  determined  to  hear  the  speeches?  Well, 
I  suppose  I'm  in  for  it,  and  I  detest  political  speeches. 
That's  what  comes  of  being  a  'hen-pecked  brother/  aa 
Hugh  Kent  called  me." 

"Did  Hugh  Kent  call  you  that?"  sharply. 


THE  LEADER  25 

Peyton  hastened  to  avert  the  impending  storm  from 
his  friend's  head. 

"Come  to  think  of  it,  it  wasn't  Hugh,  it  was  one  of  the 
men  at  the  club  the  other  night,  when  he  wanted  me  to 
take  a  hand  at  bridge,  and  I  excused  myself  on  the  plea 
of  an  engagement  with  you." 

"I  don't  care  if  it  was  not  Hugh,"  said  Margaret,  eas- 
ily mollified,  "but  it  was  not  a  particularly  courteous 
speech  whoever  made  it;  I  hope  you  resented  it  properly." 

"Oh  you  may  be  sure  I  did,  for  the  sake  of  my  own 
reputation,"  answered  Peyton  laughing.  "I  said  you 
didn't  rule  me  with  a  rod  of  iron  and  you  weren't  the  most 
exacting  woman  in  the  world,  and  I  wasn't  tied  to  your 
apron  strings,  and  a  lot  more  lies  of  the  same  kind." 

Margaret  laughed  too,  and  then  said  suddenly. 

"By  the  way,  Mrs.  Paxton  said  she  would  have  a  sur- 
prise for  me  this  afternoon  at  tea;  what  do  you  suppose 
it  is?" 

"Probably  some  duke  or  earl  she  wants  to  present  to 
you — there  are  a  lot  of  titles  around,  these  Fair  times, 
Or,  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  were  the  Honorable  John 
Dal  ton  himself;  how  would  you  like  that? 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Margaret  slowly,  with  a  little 
pucker  between  her  straight  brows,  "I  believe  I  would 
rather  worship  him  at  a  distance." 


CHAPTER  II. 
"WE'RE  ALL  GOOD  PATRIOTS!" 

The  morning  had  been  fair,  but  before  noon  the  clouds 
gathered,  and  as  Margaret  and  Peyton  Le  Beau  left  the 
Art  Gallery — where  they  had  dropped  in  for  a  moment  to 
look  at  a  picture  they  were  thinking  of  buying — and 
started  to  walk  down  to  the  Monument,  a  sudden  down- 
pour drove  them  to  take  refuge  in  Festival  Hall.  Hun- 
dreds of  others  found  refuge  there  also,  and  in  a  few 
moments  a  man  on  the  platform  announced  that,  owing 
to  the  rain,  the  speeches  would  be  delivered  there,  instead 
of  at  the  Monument  as  had  originally  been  intended. 

And  so  it  happened  that  not  twenty  minutes  later, 
Margaret  sat  with  quickening  pulse  listening  to  the  brief 
introductory  speech,  lauding  to  the  skies  the  speaker  of 
the  hour,  the  Honorable  John  Dalton.  She  had  not  been 
able  to  distinguish  him  in  the  dark-coated  throng  sitting 
on  the  great  platform,  although  she  had  a  very  distinct 
impression  of  how  she  expected  him  to  look,  formed 
from  newspaper  prints  and  caricatures :  a  sort  of  dashing 
Don  Quixote  type,  flashingly  dressed,  no  doubt,  in  the 
poor  taste  belonging  to  a  man  who  had  risen  from  the 
ranks,  but  with  nevertheless  a  certain  Bohemian  grace 
and  attractiveness. 

It  was  almost  a  shock  therefore,  at  the  close  of  the 
speech  of  introduction,  to  see  a  middle-aged  man  quietly 


THE  LEADER  27 

step  forward  to  the  front  of  the  platform,  and  survey 
his  audience  a  moment  in  silence.  She  had  not  expected 
him  to  look  so  old,  though  she  knew  that  no  very  young 
man  could  have  taken  the  part  in  politics  he  had  been 
taking  the  last  four  years.  There  was  nothing  dashing 
in  the  strong,  lithe  figure,  lean  and  muscular,  with 
broad  shoulders  bearing  with  ease  the  leonine  head. 
The  close  crop  of  brown  curls  was  already  darkening  to 
grey  and  beginning  to  whiten  and  to  thin  at  the  temples 
leaving  a  broad  expanse  of  brow  that  had  almost  the 
effect  of  beetling  over  the  keen  grey  eyes.  The  chin  was 
square  and  massive  and  the  lips  well  cut  and  firmly 
closed. 

Neither  was  there  anything  at  all  flashy  in  the  dress. 
Save  for  the  little  black  tie,  he  might  have  been  a  country 
clergyman,  in  his  easy-fitting  black  frock  and  black  trous- 
ers, guiltless  of  a  crease.  Margaret  was  disappointed; 
there  was  nothing  in  this  plain-looking  country  gentle- 
man to  encourage  romantic  idealization,  and  she  began 
to  recognize  that  in  spite  of  her  denial  to  her  brother 
that  was  just  what  she  had  been  guilty  of. 

The  house  was  not  more  than  two-thirds  full,  for  com- 
paratively few  had  learned  of  the  change  of  place;  or, 
having  learned  it,  dared  to  brave  the  tremendous  down- 
pour of  a  July  thunder  storm.  Margaret  thought  this 
was  no  doubt  a  disappointment  to  the  speaker  but  noth- 
ing in  his  manner  indicated  it.  After  a  moment's 
survey  of  his  audience  a  half-smile  illuminated  his  face, 
transfiguring  it  to  the  face  of  a  poet  and  a  seer,  and  draw- 


28  THE  LEADER 

ing  Margaret's  interest  at  once  with  a  powerful  magnet- 
ism. 

Then  he  began  to  speak.  This  was  no  political  ha- 
rangue, but  a  scholarly  and  patriotic  oration  suited  to  the 
commemoration  of  a  great  nation's  birthday.  It  was 
an  immense  hall  he  was  speaking  in;  the  voice  of  the  man 
who  introduced  him  had,  with  evident  effort,  made  itself 
heard  as  far  as  Margaret's  seat  in  the  balcony,  but  there 
was  no  apparent  effort  in  the  way  the  silvery  tones  of 
this  speaker  penetrated  to  every  seat  under  the  vast 
dome.  Margaret  listened,  so  fascinated  by  the  sound 
that  for  a  time  she  hardly  took  in  the  sense.  It  was 
like  some  great  master  playing  on  a  beautiful  instrument, 
and  arousing  in  his  listeners  every  emotion  at  his  will. 

When  she  began  to  really  comprehend  what  he  was 
saying,  she  was  sorry  at  first  that  this  was  not  to  be  a 
political  speech;  she  would  have  liked  to  hear  him  on 
those  issues  for  which  he  had  been  making  such  a  gallant 
fight  the  last  four  years — a  fight  that  had  kindled  her 
admiration.  But  as  she  listened,  she  was  impressed  more 
and  more  by  the  brilliant  scholarship  of  the  man,  and 
she  began  to  perceive  that  this  was  one  of  those  wonder- 
ful flights  of  finished  oratory  which  it  is  given  one  to 
hear  hardly  more  than  once  in  a  lifetime.  It  struck  her, 
too,  that  it  was  an  unusual  evidence  of  self-restraint  and 
good  taste  not  to  have  siezed  this  occasion,  on  the  eve  of 
the  great  convention,  to  make  political  capital  for  him- 
self and  his  views.  Surely  the  man  was  something  more 
than  a  "political  demagogue"  as  her  brother  had  called 
him. 


THE  LEADER  29 

She  had  been  feeling  very  sensitive  as  to  the  impres- 
sion the  Honorable  John  Dalton  should  make  upon  her 
brother.  She  recognized  this  with  something  like  self- 
derision,  saying  to  herself  it  was  no  affair  of  hers,  and  it 
was  extremely  silly  of  her  to  feel  any  concern.  None  tjie 
less  she  experienced  a  great  relaxing  of  tension,  and  a 
disposition  to  settle  back  comfortably  in  her  seat,  when 
she  discovered  from  cautious  side-glances  that  her  bro- 
ther was  every  moment  growing  more  deeply  interested; 
his  eyes  glowing  and  his  face,  usually  an  impenetrable 
mask  of  indifference,  kindling  with  enthusiasm. 

But  the  speaker  had  not  gone  far  in!o  his  subject — 
hardly  more  than  well  introduced  it — when  a  distant 
sound  struck  upon  Margaret's  ears.  It  grew  rapidly 
louder  and  nearer.  It  was  the  hurried  trampling  of 
many  feet — hundreds  of  them,  thousands  of  them — it 
was  some  strange  and  awful  panic! 

The  noise  grew  to  a  deafening  roar;  the  speaker's  voice 
was  drowned  and  he  was  obliged  to  stop.  No  one  knew 
what  it  meant;  every  one  looked  uneasily  back  towards 
the  doors,  and  many  women  half  rose  in  their  seats  as  if 
to  flee.  She  could  see  that  her  brother  was  anxious,  but 
when  she  turned  to  him  and  said — "Let  us  go,  I  am 
afraid" — he  quieted  her  with — "No,  wait  and  let  us  see; 
it  is  nothing,  I  think." 

It  seemed  a  long  time  that  the  terrifying  rush  and  roar 
of  tramping  feet  kept  up,  steadily  growing  louder,  but 
not  yet  entering  the  doors.  Then  at  last  they  came: 
hundreds  of  them,  thousands  of  them,  eager-eyed,  pour- 
ing through  the  doors  and  rushing  down  the  aisles,  alike 


30  THE  LEADER 

of  main  floor  and  balcony,  in  a  mad  race  for  place  to  see 
and  hear  the  speaker.  They  swept  past  Margaret  a 
resistless  throng,  and  she  saw  now  the  wisdom  of  her 
brother's  advice  to  keep  quiet — no  one  could  for  a  mo- 
ment have  breasted  that  rushing  tide. 

Her  soul  was  thrilled  at  the  sight  of  them,  for  their 
faces  were  illuminated  with  their  great  desire,  and  they 
were  strong,  stern  faces,  browned  by  the  suns  of  harvests, 
roughened  by  the  winds  of  winter.  Most  of  them  were 
young  men,  but  some  of  them  were  middle-aged  and  a 
few  were  grey-haired.  Margaret  recognized  at  once  that 
they  were  neither  the  sleek-faced  town-bred  youths  from 
offices  and  stores,  nor  the  unwholesome  looking  dwellers 
in  the  city's  slums.  They  were  the  farmers  and  the  farm- 
er lads  from  the  great  West  and  South,  roughly  clad, 
but  neat  of  garb,  self  respecting,  with  an  independence 
of  bearing  born  of  life  in  the  free  air  under  wide  skies. 

There  was  a  blockade  in  the  aisle  for  a  moment.  Mar- 
garet looked  up  into  the  eager  face  of  a  young  man  by 
her  side,  straining  anxiously  forward  towards  the 
speaker  standing  on  the  platform  with  his  luminous 
smile,  quietly  waiting  for  the  struggling  mass  to  calm 
itself. 

A  sudden  impulse  moved  Margaret: — 

"Who  are  you?"  she  asked,  "and  where  did  you  come 
from  in  such  multitudes?" 

The  man  withdrew  his  gaze  from  the  platform,  half 
impatiently;  but  as  he  looked  down  and  caught  Marga- 
ret's bright  glance,  his  face  cleared  and  he  answered 
pleasantly : 


THE  LEADER  31 

"We've  come  from  the  Monument,  where  we  just 
heard  the  speaking  was  to  be  changed  to  the  hall.  Ran 
all  the  way."  And  then  with  sudden  ardor : 

"We're  all  good  patriots  come  to  hear  Dalton!" 

The  blockade  gave  way  and  the  man  passed  on,  with 
his  eager  gaze  once  more  bent  on  the  platform,  while 
Margaret  sat  tingling  to  her  finger  tips  with  the  contag- 
ious fire  that  had  leaped  from  the  countryman's  eyes  to 
hers  at  his  ardent  words — 

"We're  all  good  patriots!" 


CHAPTER  III. 

AN  ENTERING  WEDGE 

Margaret  and  her  brother  did  not  wait  to  hear  the 
next  speaker.  The  sudden  downpour  of  rain  had  ceased. 
Dripping  foliage  and  flowers  flashed  in  the  brilliant  July 
sun  like  coroneted  ladies;  the  hot  dry  world  of  noon 
was  fresh  and  young  again. 

It  was  four  o  clock;  they  were  not  due  at  the  New 
York  building  until  five.  They  walked  down  between 
the  cascades  slipping  in  deep  green  masses  over  the  stone 
terraces  and  falling  with  thunderous  sound  into  the  ba- 
sins below,  and  stood  a  moment  on  the  lower  terrace 
where  the  spray  from  the  leaping  fountains  drifted  over 
them. 

"We've  an  hour  at  our  disposal,"  said  Peyton,  "what 
would  you  like  to  do?" 

But  Margaret  was  prevented  from  answering  by  the 
appearance  at  her  side  of  a  man  in  riding  breeches  and 
boots;  it  startled  her  for  a  moment,  the  thunder  of  the 
waters  having  drowned  the  sound  of  approaching  foot- 
steps. He  hardly  waited  for  the  exchange  of  greetings 
to  say  eagerly: 

"I'll  answer  Peyton's  question  for  you,  Margaret. 
You're  going  to  my  sister's  tea  I  take  it?" 

"Yes,  are  you?"  glancing  dubiously  at  the  riding- 
dress. 


THE  LEADER  33 

"Oh,  Hugh's  a  law  unto  himself"  interposed  Peyton 
hastily,  "  Besides  all  things  are  forgiven  to  a  country 
squire." 

"And  everything  is  permissible  in  Fair  time,"  added 
Hugh  good-humoredly.  "I  am  riding  back  to  Kent- 
wick  immediately  after  tea,  so  Helen  graciously  consents 
to  receive  me  in  riding  togs.  But  I  haven't  answered 
Peyton's  question — we'll  take  a  gondola  for  an  hour,  if 
you  two  say  so.  And  we're  in  luck!  Here  comes  the 
nicest  little  boat  on  the  lagoons  and  the  best  gondolier, 
and  only  one  passenger,  who  I  can  see  by  his  face  intends 
to  get  out  at  this  landing  and  go  up  to  hear  the  speeches." 

Hugh  read  the  passenger's  face  aright — he  alighted  at 
their  landing,  and  Lorenzo  the  gondolier,  picturesque  in 
sailor  garb  of  white,  and  resplendent  in  tie  and  sash  of 
crimson  silk,  eagerly  claimed  Hugh  and  his  party  as  his 
"famiglia." 

Margaret  sank  back  luxuriously  in  the  one  comfort- 
able seat  of  the  gondola  with  a  rapturous  sigh. 

"Now  for  an  hour  of  Venice — it's  the  one  thing  at  the 
Fair  I  never  tire  of." 

The  two  men  facing  her  let  their  eyes  rest  with  equal 
delight  on  the  picture  she  made,  a  fluff  of  filmy  white 
and  pale  heliotrope — Hugh's  gaze  almost  as  openly  ador- 
ing as  Peyton's. 

Margaret  always  objected  to  her  brother's  too  open 
admiration  in  public,  and  a  little  pucker  between  the 
straight  brows  brought  him  to  his  senses  now.  He 
saved  himself  by  teasing  her : 

"Did  you  ever  observe,  Hugh,  that  Margaret's  eyes 


34  THE  LEADER 

always  take  on  the  color  of  her  gown?  She  has  on  her 
lavender  eyes  to-day." 

"Lavender! "  echoed  Margaret  scornfully.  "Mr.  Kent 
please  defend  me  from  my  brother's  compliments!" 

Hugh,  who  was  only  a  year  or  two  younger  than  Pey- 
ton, was  still  but  a  boy  in  heart;  he  answered  quite  seri- 
ously : 

"Aren't  they  lavender,  Margaret?  I  don't  know 
colors,  I  only  know  they're  all  right." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Margaret  amiably — she  was  as  used 
to  Hugh's  admiration  as  to  Peyton's,  and  minded  it 
almost  as  little.  "Now  if  you  please,  we'll  enjoy  ourselves. 
See  that  arch  of  the  La  Salle  bridge  we  are  just  coming 
to,  and  the  grass  and  the  trees  showing  vivid  emerald 
against  the  ivory  of  the  facade  beyond,  with  its  Corin- 
thian pillars  and  sculptured  frieze  and  pediment:  could 
anything  in  Venice  be  finer?" 

"Not  half  so  fine!"  responded  Peyton  promptly. 
"Look  up  on  the  other  side  to  that  green  hill,  flower- 
embroidered,  crowned  with  its  mighty  dome  with  the 
wonderful  colonade  of  heroic  sculptures  circling  away 
from  it  on  either  side;  and  the  green  torrent  of  water 
pouring  down  the  center;  and  the  broad  curving  steps 
rising  on  each  side  of  it;  and  the  great  Grecian  urns  filled 
with  flowers  and  vines  en  their  wonderfully  carved  bal- 
ustrades; and  the  people  of  every  nation  on  the  earth 
thronging  up  and  down  the  steps.  There's  not  on  all 
the  inhabitable  globe  a  sight  to  equal  it!" 

Peyton  spoke  eloquently,  and  his  two  listeners  were 
silent  for  a  moment.  Then  Margaret  said: 


THE  LEADER  35 

"That  sounds  a  bit  grandiloquent  for  the  impassive 
Mr.  Le  Beau,  but  it's  all  true.  Oh,  if  it  were  only  marble 
or  enduring  stone !"  regretfully.  "If  we  could  only  come 
out  here  next  summer  and  find  it  just  the  same!  It 
makes  me  sad  to  think  of  next  summer  and  the  destruc- 
tion of  all  this  wonderful  beauty." 

"Do  you  know  Margaret,"  said  Hugh  simply,  "it 
always  makes  me  sad  to  look  ahead  a  year.  I'm  always 
wondering  who'll  be  dead  and  who'll  be  married." 

Margaret  laughed 

* 

"Why  do  you  class  them  together,  Hugh?  Marriage 
isn't  as  sad  as  death,  is  it?" 

"That  depends,"  said  Hugh  soberly  with  a  half-sigh, 
and  neither  Margaret  nor  Peyton  would  laugh  at  his  lu- 
gubrious face,  much  as  they  might  like  to,  for  they  both 
knew  it  was  of  Margaret's  possible  marriage  he  was  think- 
ing. He  had  almost  ceased  to  hope  for  himself,  but  as 
long  as  the  successful  suitor  stayed  away,  he  could  at 
least  find  the  comfort  of  frequent  companionship.  He 
had  been  Margaret's  devoted  slave  from  her  babyhood; 
she  was  fond  of  him  and  was  always  sorry  for  him,  and 
always  wishing  she  could  get  him  on  to  the  simple  plane 
of  good  fellowship.  So  she  answered  brightly. 

"Well,  we  three  are  likely  to  go  on  in  the  same  old  way 
for  years  to  come.  You  and  Peyton  are  confirmed  bach- 
elors, and  I  see  no  hope  for  me.  In  another  year  I'll  be 
thirty,  you  know,  and  then — spinsterhood  I" 

"I'd  like  to  think  it,"  said  Hugh  shaking  his  head,  and 
then,  as  if  remembering  he  was  being  rather  a  death's 
head,  he  changed  the  subject  abruptly — 


36  THE  LEADER 

"When  are  you  two  people  coming  out  to  Kentwick?" 

"Oh,  I  can't  get  Margaret  to  budge  from  town  until 
after  the  convention"  answered  Peyton  ruefully — "I 
don't  care  a  fig  for  political  conventions  myself,  but 
we've  had  a  box  given  us  and  Margaret  is  crazy  about 
Dalton,  you  know." 

"By  the  way,  how  did  you  like  him?  I  saw  you  in  the 
hall." 

Margaret  listened  keenly  for  the  answer.  She  had  not 
asked  it  herself,  partly  because  of  a  curious  self-conscious- 
ness that  would  not  let  her  appear  too  eager,  partly  from 
as  curious  a  sense  of  fear  that  the  verdict  might  not  be 
pleasant  to  hear. 

Peyton  answered  slowly  as  one  weighing  his  words: 

"I  hardly  know  what  to  think.  The  man  knocked 
out  all  my  preconceived  notions  of  him.  I  can  only  say 
he's  an  orator  from  start  to  finish,  and  tremendously 
clever.  Nothing  could  have  been  cleverer  than  the  way 
he  avoided  every  political  issue.  He  was  not  going  to 
commit  himself  on  the  eve  of  the  convention." 

"Do  you  think  he's  after  the  nomination?" 

"There's  no  doubt  about  it!" 

"Do  you  think  he'll  get  it?" 

"That's  another  question.  I  should  hardly  think  so. 
His  party  seems  to  be  struggling  to  cut  itself  loose  from 
all  the  crazy  issues  that  defeated  it  four  years  ago,  and 
if  it  succeeds — Dal  ton's  got  to  g&." 

"What  did  you  think  of  the  interruption  in  the  midst 
of  his  speech — that  tremendous  rush  of  farmer  boys?" 


THE  LEADER  37 

"Stagey,  but  effective;  and  no  doubt  carefully  pre- 
arranged." 

"Peyton!  That's  unworthy  of  you!"  flamed  Margaret 
hotly.  She  had  been  silent  till  this  moment,  but  now 
she  entered  the  lists  like  one  riding  a  charger  at  full  tilt. 
And  so  exciting  was  the  tournament  of  argument  that 
followed,  Peyton  cool,  with  an  amused  smile  provoking 
Margaret  to  still  fiercer  onslaughts;  Hugh  gallantly 
doing  his  best  to  squire  Margaret,  even,  occasionally,  at 
the  expense  of  his  convictions,  that  none  of  the  three 
noted  the  lapse  of  time,  and  after  all  they  were  late  to 
Mrs.  Paxton's  tea. 


The  Honorable  John  Dalton  walked  across  to  the  New 
York  building  talking  earnestly  to  Mr.  Frank  Seton. 
People  who  knew  Mr.  Seton  slightly,  knew  him  only  as 
Mr.  Dalton's  political  henchman.  Those  who  knew  him 
better,  believed  him  to  be  a  straightforward  honest  poli- 
tician— not  so  much  of  an  anomaly  as  it  sounds — devoted 
soul  and  body  and  fortune  (which  was  not  small)  to 
the  support  of  Dalton  and  his  views. 

Mr.  Seton  was  not  invited  to  the  tea.  At  the  entrance 
to  the  New  York  building  they  stopped  a  moment  fcr  a 
last  word  and  then  parted  with  a  hand  shake,  and  what 
sounded  like  a  command  from  Dalton: 

"I  shall  expect  you  in  my  room  at  the  hotel  at  seven." 

Mr.  Dalton  was  not  fond  of  society,  and  especially  did 
he  care  but  little  for  that  form  of  it  to  be  found  around 
an  afternoon  tea-table.  Not  that  he  was  a  recluse,  far 


38  THE  LEADER 

from  it;  but  he  used  society  much  as  Margaret  used  it, 
discriminating  in  his  acceptance  of  invitations,  and 
especially  discriminating  against  all  such  "ladies'  funct- 
ions" as  afternoon  teas. 

None  the  less  he  was  looking  forward  to  this  one  with 
some  pleasurable  excitement.  He  was  in  many  ways 
the  same  John  Dal  ton  who  as  a  young  man  had  set  before 
himself  many  purposes  to  accomplish,  many  goals  to  be 
won — a  college  education,  success  at  the  bar,  wealth, 
honor,  renown — and  he  had  won  them  all.  It  was  in 
this  city  that  he  had  made  his  start  in  life;  but  a  few  dis- 
couraging months  had  led  him  to  accept  a  promising 
opening  in  the  West,  and  except  for  fleeting  visits  on 
pressing  business  he  had  never  returned  to  it.  For  the 
first  time  he  was  staying  there  for  more  than  a  day  or  two, 
and  for  the  first  time  he  was  receiving  there  any  social 
attentions.  It  was  the  remembrance  of  the  youth's 
forlorn  life  in  those  early  days  in  this  very  city,  and  his 
secret  ambition  to  one  day  be  at  home  in  that  society  of 
which  he  had  caught  a  glimpse  on  his  way  to  college, 
that  gave  him  the  little  touch  of  excitement  to  be  to-day 
entering  it.  Not  that  the  youth's  ambitions  had  lasted 
into  later  manhood — he  smiled  at  them  in  recalling  them, 
as  belonging  to  the  immaturity  and  the  ignorance  of 
youth,  looking  back  with  some  pardonable  pride  at  the 
nobler  ambitions  that  the  unfolding  years  had  presented 
to  him,  most  of  which  his  indomitable  will  and  stead- 
fastness of  purpose  had  achieved. 

He  found  Mrs.  Paxton  waiting  for  him  in  the  cool  green 
parlors  of  the  New  York  building,  with  a  group  of  charm- 


THE  LEADER  39 

ing  women  surrounding  her.  There  were  also  in  the 
group  a  foreign  ambassador  and  two  or  three  foreign 
commissioners,  among  them  the  Chinese— who  since  his 
advent  in  the  early  spring  had  made  himself  very  pop- 
ular in  society — and  they  all  received  John  with  such 
deference  as  is  due  a  man  of  note,  and  which  must  have 
been  pleasing  to  his  vanity,  if  he  had  any. 

Mrs.  Paxton  interrupted  the  little  buzz  of  conversa- 
tion following  the  introductions: 

"We  will  not  wait  for  the  others.  I  don't  know  why 
they  are  late,  they  are  usually  very  prompt  people,  but 
they  will  know  where  to  find  us,"  and  led  the  way  out  to 
the  piazza  where  under  gaily  striped  awnings  the  tea 
table  was  set. 

Under  the  shade  of  the  awnings  soft  little  breezes  stir- 
red palms  and  brilliant  flowering  plants  in  great  urns; 
cooling  drinks  and  ices,  temptingly  displayed  on  the 
pretty  tea  table,  offered  to  lower  the  temperature  of  the 
inner  man;  the  women  in  flower  hats  and  diaphonous 
muslins  looked  as  if  no  tropic  heat  could  disturb  their 
dainty  calm,  and  even  the  men  in  light  flannels  and  the 
half  negligee  permitted  to  men  in  summer  seemed  not  to 
mind  a  July  thermometer  ranging  far  up  into  the  nine- 
ties. Only  the  Honorable  John  Dalton  looked  and  felt 
uncomfortably  warm.  After  the  foolish  manner  of  many 
men  his  dress  was  but  a  little  lighter  than  it  would  have 
been  had  the  thermometer  stood  at  zero,  and  nothing 
could  have  looked  hotter  than  his  uncompromising  black 
frock  and  trousers. 

But  when  his  hostess  had  placed  him  on  her  left — the 


40  THE  LEADER 

seat  of  honor  was  necessarily  reserved  for  the  foreign 
ambassador — and  by  a  cleverly  turned  compliment  on 
his  speech  of  the  aiternoon  had  set  her  guests  an  example 
that  they  all  hastened  to  follow,  even  the  foreign  ambas- 
sador and  the  commissioners  seriously  doing  their  best 
in  their  halting  English,  he  began  to  grow  more  at  ease — 
for  after  all  his  heat  was  largely  internal  rather  than 
external. 

"Your  countrymen  make  much  noise"  said  the  lively 
Chinese  commissioner,  "that  mean  they  like  you?" 

"I  hope  so,"  said  John  smiling,  "but  you  can't  always 
tell.  Sometimes  they  do  it  just  because  they  like  the 
noise." 

"There  was  no  mistaking  their  meaning  today"  said 
the  ambassador  with  stately  courtesy. 

"No,  no!"  they  all  chimed  in,  "it  was  an  ovation!" 

"Who  were  all  those  men  that  rushed  in  in  the  middle 
of  your  speech?  I  was  dying  to  know  but  no  one  could 
tell  me"  asked  the  charming  woman  sitting  next  to  the 
ambassador..  But  before  John  had  time  to  reply  a  piq- 
uante  little  brunette  from  the  end  of  the  table — not  so 
young  perhaps  as  she  looked,  but  with  an  assumption  of 
extreme  youth  in  voice  and  manner — piped  up : 

"Oh,  I  know — Mr.  Sinclair  told  me — they  were  rooters. 
What  are  rooters,  Mr.  Dalton?" 

Blank  dismay  on  the  face  of  his  hostess  and  the  other 
women  for  a  moment,  then  John  threw  back  his  head  and 
laughed  his  old,  jolly,  ringing  laugh,  in  which  gradually 
the  others  joined  from  the  very  infection  of  his  hearty 
mirth,  though  the  foreigners  did  little  more  than  smile — 


THE  LEADER  41 

polite  but  puzzled — since  "rooters"  conveyed  no  mean- 
ing to  their  un-American  ears. 

"Oh  Julie,  Julie,  will  you  never  grow  up!"  gasped  her 
hostess  between  peals  of  laughter. 

Julie  pouted — childlike,  but  sweetly  cross: 

"What  have  I  said  now?  It  is  very  unkind  of  you  to 
make  fun  of  me !  Oh  Mr.  Le  Beau,"  as  the  belated  party 
of  three  made  its  appearance  at  that  moment,  "Please 
come  here  and  help  me — they're  all  laughing  at  me  and 
won't  tell  me  why." 

"Wait  a  moment,  Julie,"  Peyton  called  gaily  to  her, 
"until  I  speak  to  my  hostess,  then  I'll  come  to  your  res- 
cue— nobody  shall  abuse  you." 

There  was  a  little  commotion  of  introductions,  hand- 
shakings between  the  men  and  the  clicking  of  heels  and 
stiff  military  bows  as  the  foreigners  were  presented  to 
Margaret. 

The  Honorable  John  Dalton  felt  himself  a  little  awk- 
ward and  a  little  self-conscious  in  getting  to  his  feet  and 
making  his  bow.  It  was  his  usual  experience  in  meet- 
ing women,  for  he  had  not  seen  enough  of  them  in  his 
busy  life  to  get  used  to  them.  His  life  had  been  esssen- 
tially  a  man's  life.  He  sometimes  wondered  curiously 
whether  Fate  had  decreed  there  should  be  no  woman  in 
the  world  for  him,  or  had  simply  forgotten  him.  Not 
that  in  his  scheme  of  life  any  part  was  alloted  to  Fate; 
in  all  its  ordinary  events  it  had  been  his  own  keen  blade 
in  his  own  strong  right  hand  that  he  had  relied  on  for 
carving  out  his  destiny,  and  he  had  been  so  absorbed  in 


42  THE  LEADER 

carving  and  climbing  as  to  have  found  little  time  and 
little  inclination  for  other  thoughts. 

At  sight  of  Margaret,  some  sleeping  memory  of  his 
youth  stirred  faintly — then  he  glanced  at  her  brother 
and  recognized  him  at  once.  Except  that  he  had  grown 
older,  he  was  little  changed  from  the  man  who  had  given 
him  such  a  disagreeable  impression  of  the  arrogance  of  the 
upper  class,  and  he  turned  quickly  to  Margaret  again. 
It  all  came  vividly  back  to  him — two  distinct  pictures — 
the  child  and  her  flower-decked  ponies,  and  the  young 
girl  generously  braving  her  brother's  displeasure  for  him. 

To  his  eyes  she  seemed  but  little  older  than  she  had 
seemed  then,  for  the  hurry  of  her  walk  from  the  lagoons 
had  set  her  eyes  to  dancing  and  her  cheeks  to  glowing 
like  a  child's,  and  the  white  frock,  short  enough  to  dis- 
close immaculate  white  shoes,  accentuated  the  look  of 
youth.  The  moist  heat  of  the  day  had  set  loose  little 
curling  wisps  of  hair  about  her  face — not  the  bright 
locks  of  the  child,  the  red  gold  had  deepened  to  bronze — 
and  the  rose  tints  of  her  cheek,  the  tawny  gold  of  her 
hair,  the  floating  heliotrope  of  her  veil  and  the  fluffs  of 
her  soft  white  gown,  all  blurred  together  in  his  eyes  in 
one  confused  vision  of  loveliness. 

He  made  a  quick  mental  estimate  of  the  other  man 
with  her,  and  classified  him  quite  accurately  as  a  simple- 
minded  gentleman,  whose  honest  blue  eyes  and  frank 
friendly  manners  would  make  him  a  popular  fellow  in 
society  but  "not  greatly  to  be  feared,"  he  said  to  him- 
self and  then  wondered  what  he  meant  by  that. 

As  for  Margaret,  she  had  half  expected  to  see  him  and 


THE  LEADER  43 

was  hardly  surprised,  though,  fresh  from  the  exaltation 
due  to  his  eloquence  and  her  own  ardent  defense  of  him, 
it  was  rather  a  rude  awakening  to  find  him  awkwardly 
acknowledging  his  presentation  to  her,  while  a  deep  flush 
of  embarrassment  reddened  his  cheek.  He  did  not  shine 
in  comparison  with  the  sleek  elegance  of  the  other  men, 
and  she  said  swiftly  to  herself — "I  would  rather  have 
known  him  at  a  distance." 

It  annoyed  her  also  to  catch  the  gleam  of  amusement 
in  the  eyes  of  both  her  brother  and  her  hostess  as  they 
watched  the  meeting,  and  annoyed  her  still  more  to  dis- 
cover that  a  chair  had  been  pointedly  left  vacant  for 
her  beside  him. 

It  was  not  a  promising  beginning  to  the  acquaintance, 
and  John — sensitive  to  a  fault  where  a  beautiful  woman 
was  concerned,  and  for  some  reason  more  than  ordinarily 
sensitive  with  this  one — recognized  it  at  once,  but  with 
his  usual  grim  determination,  resolved  to  win  victory  out 
of  defeat.  Margaret  little  knew  it,  but  at  the  very 
moment  she  was  taking  her  seat,  a  definite  plan  of  attack 
to  capture  the  citadel  of  her  friendly  regard,  distinctly 
outlined  itself  in  the  mind  of  the  man  clumsily  holding 
her  chair  for  her. 

"It's  all  Mr.  Dalton's  fault  that  we  are  so  late,  Mrs. 
Paxton,"  called  Peyton  from  his  seat  at  the  other  end 
of  the  table  beside  Julie  Delauney,  "ask  Margaret  if  it 
isn't." 

"Not  at  all,"  answered  Margaret,  flushing  a  little  as 
every  one  turned  inquiring  eyes  towards  her.  "Mr. 
Dalton  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  farther  than  to  suggest 


44  THE  LEADER 

some  question  in  politics  that  we  grew  so  eager  in  dis- 
cussing as  to  forget  the  time." 

John  turned  to  her  quickly : — 

"Tell  me  what  it  was,  Miss  Le  Beau,  and  which  side 
you  were  on.  I  am  rather  interested  to  hear  your 
political  views." 

"Yes,  Miss  Le  Beau  if  you  please,"  urged  the  ambas- 
sador, "I  am  greatly  interested  in  American  politics,  and 
particularly  in  Mr.  Dalton's  side  of  them." 

"Oh,  ask  my  brother,  please,"  said  Margaret,  includ- 
ing both  men  in  her  smile  and  glance,  "I  don't  believe 
I'm  enough  of  a  politician  to  state  it  clearly." 

"I  would  rather  hear  your  statement  of  it"  insisted 
John,  beaming  down  upon  her  in  quite  paternal  fashion, 
for  at  her  smile,  time  and  place  had  suddenly  been  anni- 
hilated, and  she  seemed  to  him  the  child  of  long  ago  driv- 
ing her  tandem  ponies.  "I  have  discovered,  Mr.  Le 
Beau,"  making  courteous  excuse  to  Peyton,  "that  if  we 
listen  to  the  ladies  we  can  usually  get  some  new  ideas; 
it's  always  the  same  old  thing  with  us  men." 

"Oh  don't  think  it  necessary  to  apologize,"  said  Peyton 
laughing,  "I'm  always  glad  to  have  Margaret  do  my 
talking.  And  as  for  a  woman's  political  ideas,  I  grant 
you  their  novelty  at  least." 

"Peyton!  Mr.  Dal  ton,  he's  a  scoffer!  don't  listen  to 
him,  please,"  said  Mrs.  Paxton  severely.  "Margaret, 
prove  that  a  woman  can  make  an  intelligent  statement 
of  a  political  question  and  shame  your  brother." 

"But  I'm  not  sure  that  I  can.  I'm  not  sure  that  I 
quite  know  what  our  hot  discussion  was  over." 


THE  LEADER  45 

Hugh,  who  took  everyone  at  his  word,  undertook  to 
jog  Margaret's  memory: 

"Why,  you  know  Margaret,  we  were  discussing  the 
two  parties — which  one  was  the  conservative  party" — 
and  then  stopped  short  as  he  saw  a  shadow  of  annoyance 
on  Margaret's  face,  for  blunder  as  he  might,  he  was 
always  keenly  alive  and  sensitive  to  every  changing 
expression  of  that  face. 

Peyton  saw  the  annoyance  too,  and  thought  he  under- 
stood it,  and,  considerate  brother  that  he  was,  shifted 
the  burden  to  his  own  shoulders: 

"My  sister  claims,  Mr.  Dalton,  that  your  party  is  the 
conservative  one,  because  you  s'and  by  the  old  consti- 
tution and  oppose  every  amendment  to  it.  And  I  insist 
that  our  party  is  the  conservative  one,  for  though  we 
have  been  responsible  for  all  the  changes  in  the  constitu- 
tion, yet  for  the  last  fifty  years  our  aims  have  been 
unchanged,  and  our  platforms  have  differed  so  little 
from  one  four  years  to  another,  that  we  might  almost 
have  made  the  platform  of  fifty  years  ago  serve  at  the 
convention  this  summer.  The  issues  of  our  party  fifty 
years  ago,  are  its  issues  to-day." 

"And  I  suppose  you  told  her,  also,  what  I  have  often 
heard  charged  against  us,"  said  Mr.  Dalton  quietly, 
"that  we  shift  our  platform  with  every  new  convention, 
hoping  thereby  to  introduce  some  plank  that  may  catch 
votes." 

Peyton  tried  to  interpose  a  polite  demurrer,  but  with 
the  habit  of  a  platform  speaker,  having  once  secured  the 
floor,  John  did  not  easily  give  it  up. 


46  THE  LEADER 

"Of  course,"  he  said,  "we  deny  that  to  be  our  object 
in  changing  our  platform;  but  we  can  hardly  deny  that 
we  are  more  radical  than  you.  It  is  for  each  one  to 
decide  for  himself  which  term  seems  to  him  the  nobler — 
radical  or  conservative.  For  me,  I  would  rather  be  the 
sails  that  impel  the  Ship  of  State  forward,  no  matter  how 
stormy  the  seas,  than  the  anchor  that  holds  her  safe  in 
harbor." 

The  Chinese  commissioner  was  enjoying  what,  to  his 
oriental  ideas,  seemed  a  delightfully  dangerous  flirtation 
with  his  pretty  neighbor  on  the  left,  although  to  the  young 
American  lady  herself  it  seemed  an  extremely  innocent 
one.  The  Frenchman  was  having  a  treat — Julie  Delau- 
ney  was  chattering  to  him  in  French  as  fluent  as  his  own, 
if  not  as  faultless.  Neither  of  these  two  men  cared  for 
American  politics  as  compared  with  American  women. 
But  the  ambassador  was,  as  he  said,  deeply  interested; 
and  no  man  on  the  American  stage  had  interested  him 
so  strongly  as  John  Dalton.  He  was  not  going  to  waste 
this  opportunity  of  drawing  him  out. 

"Your  simile  is  a  fine  one,  Sir,"  he  said,  "and  as  true 
as  it  is  fine,  but  would  you  be  so  good  as  to  tell  me  some 
of  the — boards,  I  think  Mr.  Le  Beau  called  them — that 
you  have  changed  so  often?" 

Mr.  Dalton  hesitated  for  a  perceptible  moment,  while 
Hugh  muttered  under  his  breath  to  the  young  lady  at 
his  side: 

"Ah,  say  now,  that's  not  quite  fair  you  know." 
Then  with  the  quick  flicker  of  an  eyelid,  and  the  smile 


THE  LEADER  47 

that  so  wonderfully  illuminated  his  strong  face,  John 
answered: 

"I'm  afraid  Mr.  Le  Beau  would  say  'Time  would  fail/ 
but  I  think  it  likely  the  plank  he  had  most  in  mind,  the 
one  which  has  aroused  the  strongest  opposition,  in  the 
party  and  out,  is  the  anti- trust  plank  of  the  platform  four 
years  ago." 

"And  which  I  understand  is  to  be  eliminated  from  the 
platform  at  the  coming  convention,"  said  Peyton 
quickly. 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,"  answered  Dal  ton 
grimly,  and  as  he  spoke,  his  grey  eyes,  usually  so  kindly, 
looked  hard  and  cold,  his  strong  jaw  set  itself  more 
firmly,  and  unconsciously  his  head  lifted  a  little  and  his 
shoulders  straightened,  as  one  squaring  himself  for  con- 
flict. 

Mrs.  Paxton  thought  it  time  to  drop  politics,  and  being 
a  clever  woman  she  soon  had  Dalton  and  the  ambas- 
sador as  deeply  absorbed  in  a  critical  discussion  of  a  newly 
discovered  Pompeiian  fresco  as  they  had  threatened  to  be 
in  politics,  while  she  and  Margaret  listened,  and  volun- 
teered an  occasional  word. 

Julie  Delauney,  discovering  that  Peyton  was  no  longer 
engrossed  by  the  party  at  the  head  of  the  table,  threw 
the  Frenchman  over  incontinently,  and  pounced  upon 
Peyton  the  moment  he  was  free  with  such  lightning- 
like  swiftness,  she  might  have  been  suspected  of  watch- 
ing for  this  opportunity.  The  Frenchman  consoled  him- 
self with  the  lady  on  his  left,  who  up  to  this  time  had 
been  somewhat  neglected,  and  so  all  around  the  table 


48  THE  LEADER 

was  the  pleasant  murmur  of  light  talk  and  laughter,  as 
the  shadows  lengthened  on  the  grass,  and  a  cool  little 
evening  breeze  sprang  up  in  the  leaves  of  the  tall  lindens 
and  maples  clustered  close  about  the  building,  while 
throngs  of  tired,  dusty  sightseers  trooping  past  on  their 
way  to  the  nearest  gate,  intent  on  home  and  supper, 
looked  up  with  weary  eyes  at  the  merry  party  on  the 
shady  piazza,  envying  their  cool  and  dainty  ease. 

Margaret  was  the  first  to  rise,  pleading  a  dinner  engage- 
ment as  excuse  for  breaking  up  such  a  delightful  party. 
Under  cover  of  the  confusion  of  farewells,  John  managed 
to  say  what  he  had  been  conning  over  to  himself  through 
the  whole  hour : 

"Miss  Le  Beau,  I  have  to  thank  you  twice — first  for  a 
large  part  of  the  pleasure  of  this  afternoon,  and  second 
for  something  I  cannot  now  tell  you,  but  which  I  hope 
some  day  to  be  able  to  reveal  to  you;  when  I  know  you 
sufficiently  well."  Leaving  Margaret  in  a  state  of  doubt 
as  to  whether  to  be  more  amused  by  the  set  formality 
of  his  speech,  or  annoyed  at  its  audacity;  but  leaving  her 
also  with  an  oft  recurring  wonder  as  to  what  the  reve- 
lation might  be. 

Which  was  no  doubt  John's  clever  design  in  making 
the  speech, 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ELECTIONEERING 

Margaret's  dinner  party  was  a  large  and  formal  one, 
given  to  the  ambassador  at  one  of  the  clubs.  Most  of 
those  who  had  taken  tea  with  Mrs.  Paxton  were  also 
present  at  the  dinner,  but  this  t!me  Peyton  found  him- 
self next  to  Mrs.  Paxton,  and  Margaret  sat  between  the 
ambassador  and  a  young  German  secretary  of  legation, 
whose  attentions,  Margaret  very  soon  discovered,  she 
must  share  with  a  blonde  moustache,  zealously  trained 
upward  in  filial  compliment  to  his  sovereign,  but  still  so 
young  as  to  need  much  of  his  fostering  care — which  left 
her  at  liberty  to  enjoy  the  ambassador  with  a  good 
conscience. 

Hugh,  who  had  had  scarcely  more  than  time  after  his 
sister's  tea  to  gallop  out  to  Kentwick,  change  his  dress 
and  catch  a  train  back,  had  been  assigned  to  Julie  Delau- 
ney — an  arrangement  pleasing  to  neither  of  them;  for 
Julie  frankly  called  Hugh  "stupid,"  and  Hugh  privately 
regarded  Julie  as  "silly."  Each  one,  however,  was  find- 
ing some  consolation  in  the  neighbor  on  the  other  side, 
which  in  Julie's  case  happened  to  be  the  Chinese  com- 
missioner, much  to  that  gay  oriental's  delight.  She 
was  not  as  fluent  with  her  Chinese  as  with  her  French, 
but  she  was  amusing  herself  and  delighting  him,  by  making 
him  give  her  the  Chinese  for  many  tender  phrases,  which 


50  THE  LEADER 

she  repeated  after  him  with  a  mixture  of  child-like  inno- 
cence and  languishing  intention  as  quite  ravished  the 
inflamable  organ  he  called  his  heart. 

Peyton,  for  once,  was  so  absorbed  in  his  dinner  part- 
ner that  he  had  but  few  admiring  glances  to  bestow  on 
Margaret,  though  she  had  never  deserved  them  more. 
She  was  wearing  the  shade  of  pale  blue  that  made  her 
eyes  like  sapphires  and  brought  out  every  tint  of  gold  in 
her  hair  and  rose  in  her  cheeks.  Sparkling  and  glowing 
she  made  one  think  of  stars  and  roses,  and  no  man  could 
look  at  her  without  his  own  eyes  growing  brighter.  Even 
the  dignified  ambassador  thawed  under  her  radiance,  and 
his  old  eyes  shone  as  he  looked  at  her  with  something  of 
the  fire  of  his  youth,  while  Hugh  scarcely  dared  to  glance 
in  her  direction,  since  he  wished  to  keep  himself  suffi- 
ciently undazzled  to  do  his  duty  as  a  dinner  guest. 

It  was  a  polyglot  dinner:  a  mingling  of  German, 
French,  Italian  and  English,  some  of  the  English  suffi- 
ciently quaint,  as  no  doubt  were  some  of  the  foreign 
tongues,  which  the  young  American  women  were  essay- 
ing to  speak  with  ease.  And  it  was  not  only  many- 
tongued  but  of  all  ages,  from  stately  matrons  of  fifty 
down  to  a  last  winter's  debutante;  though  its  mingled 
characteristics  only  seemed  to  add  to  its  ease  and  gaiety, 
and  for  an  hour  or  two  the  joyous  flow  of  bright  speech 
and  merry  laughter  went  steadily  on. 

But  summer  evenings  were  never  made  for  long  din- 
ners, hot  with  the  fumes  of  wine  and  the  glow  of  many 
candles.  By  ten  o'clock,  when  the  dinner  had  progressed 
to  cigars  and  coffee,  the  heat  in  the  brilliantly  lighted 


THE  LEADER  51 

room  had  become  oppressive,  and  the  lovely  moonlight 
flooding  the  broad  boulevard  was  calling  the  younger 
men  and  girls  to  their  rightful  heritage  on  summer  nights. 

"What  do  you  say,  Mrs.  Thorndyke,  to  our  all  going 
down  to  The  Southern  to  see  the  politicians?  They're 
all  in  town  now — the  big  ones  at  least — and  it  will  be  a 
lot  of  fun  to  see  them  and  watch  the  electioneering." 

It  was  a  young  June  graduate  who  spoke — lifting  his 
voice  to  address  his  hostess — so  fresh  from  college  that 
he  was  still  full  of  the  collegian's  intense  interest  in  life, 
and,  most  of  all,  in  politics. 

"Oh  lovely!  please  do,  Mrs.  Thorndyke!"  seconded  the 
debutante,  clapping  her  hands  in  schoolgirlish  delight. 

While  Mrs.  Thorndyke  hesitated,  embarrassed  by  the 
feeling  that  she  could  not  so  summarily  break  up  her 
own  dinner  party  without  being  sure  all  her  guests  de- 
sired it,  Hugh  glanced  at  Margaret.  She  returned  his 
glance  with  dancing  eyes  and  a  little  nod  which  Hugh 
interpreted — "Speak  for  me." 

"It's  all  right,  you  know,  Mrs.  Thorndyke,"  said  Hugh 
in  obedience  to  the  nod,  "it's  the  thing  to  do.  You'll 
find  everybody  you  know  there  or  at  the  other  hotels." 

"And  do  let  us  send  the  carriages  home  and  all  go 
down  on  the  street  car,"  added  Julie  Delauney,  hands 
clasped  dramatically  on  her  breast,  and  as  schoolgirlish 
an  air  of  entreaty  as  the  debutante's. 

"It  would  be  delightful,"  said  Mrs.  Thorndyke  slowly, 
"but  I'm  afraid  I  can't  go." 

"-Oh!  who  will  chaperone  us  then!"  Julie  spoke  with  a 
dismay  that  seemed  to  Hugh  like  affectation,  and  irri- 


52  THE  LEADER 

tated  him  to  unwonted  sarcasm.  He  spoke  in  a  low 
aside  to  Julie;  but  laughingly,  to  veil  his  ill-humor: 

"Oh,  we'll  all  chaperone  you  and  the  Bud,  the  rest  of 
us  are  old  enough  to  take  care  of  ourselves." 

He  was  sorry  the  moment  he  had  spoken — it  was  not 
at  all  like  "Gentlemanly  Hugh."  Julie  colored,  but 
whether  with  annoyance  or  pleasure  at  being  classed 
with  the  Bud,  it  was  difficult  to  tell.  She  did  not  turn 
her  entreating  eyes  from  her  hostess. 

"But  can  we  go  down  to  the  hotels  in  dinner  dress?" 
asked  Mrs.  Paxton  in  soft  perplexity,  as  one  not  desiring 
to  throw  cold  water,  but  seeing  no  help  for  it. 

"Oh,  I  think  it  won't  matter,"  answered  Margaret 
quickly.  "On  summer  evenings,  you  know,  the  whole 
town's  practically  in  evening  dress.  If  we  wear  some- 
thing over  our  shoulders  we  will  look  like  everybody 
else."  And  then  at  last  the  ambassador  spoke,  and  re- 
lieved Mrs.  Thorndyke's  embarrassment. 

"I  would  like  much  to  be  of  your  party,  Madame,  but 
I  leave  for  Washington  at  midnight,  and  there  are  mat- 
ters of  importance  to  be  attended  to  first.  I  must  ask 
your  permission  to  make  my  adieux  now." 

That  brought  the  dinner  to  a  close  at  once,  and  when 
the  elaborate  interchange  of  compliments  and  farewells 
between  the  hostess  and  the  ambassador  and  the  other 
guests  was  over,  there  was  no  reason  why  any  one  who 
wished  should  not  join  the  party  to  The  Southern. 

They  adopted  Julie's  idea  of  dismissing  the  carriages 
and  going  down  on  the  street  cars  as  "much  more  fun," 
as  well  as  more  expeditious.  Whether  Julie  managed  it 


THE  LEADER  53 

— she  was  clever  enough  to  do  so — or  whether  it  was  a 
kindly  fate,  she  found  herself  next  to  Peyton,  who  liked 
her  in  spite  of  her  affectations,  which  did  not  irritate 
him  as  they  did  Hugh,  only  amused  him.  He  always 
treated  her  as  of  extreme  youth,  which  was  what  she 
liked.  Now  he  said: — 

"You  minx!  You  always  get  your  own  way.  Now  I 
wanted  to  go  down  in  the  carriages.  I'm  much  too  old  a 
fellow  to  be  standing  around  waiting  for  cars  at  mid- 
night." 

"Oh,  it  was  all  very  well  for  you,  Mr.  Le  Beau,"  Julie 
pouted,  "Mrs.  Paxton  and  Hugh  came  down  with  you 
and  Margaret  in  your  carriage,  didn't  they?  But  think 
of  poor  me  sitting  up  in  solitary  state  with  my  maid!" 

"You  poor  child,"  murmured  Peyton  with  exaggerated 
sympathy,  "I  had  forgotten  your  brotherless  estate.  I 
haven't  the  least  doubt,  though,  you  could  have  sent 
your  maid  home  and  filled  up  your  carriage  to  suit  your- 
self." 

"I  like  this  better" — with  soft  voice  and  glance  that 
were  both  lost  on  Peyton. 

The  seats  in  the  car  held  only  two.  Mrs.  Paxton  was 
in  the  seat  directly  behind  with  the  young  secretary  of 
legation,  and  Peyton  turned  and  looked  at  her  with  frank 
admiration  in  his  eyes.  She  had  spent  most  of  the  years 
of  her  widowhood  abroad,  and  had  only  returned  re- 
cently to  her  home.  His  open  admiration  was  for  the 
soft  grey  dinner  dress  she  was  wearing,  and  its  effect  on 
her  madonna-like  beauty.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had 
seen  her  wear  anything  but  black,  and  he  had  all  the 


54  THE  LEADER      . 

ordinary  man's  distaste  for  "mourning"  clothes.  His 
glance  and  smile  expressed  to  her  his  approbation.  She 
understood  him,  and  was  a  little  pleased,  but  much  more 
embarrassed.  It  is  a  serious  ordeal  for  a  sensitive 
woman  to  lay  aside  her  widow's  garb,  and  so  seem  to 
announce  to  the  world  that  she  has  ceased  to  mourn,  and 
if  it  were  not  for  the  almost  insensible  gradations  from 
deepest  black  to  mingled  black  and  white,  and  so  through 
greys  and  lilacs  to  the  whole  spectrum  of  fashionable 
toilets,  many  a  woman  would  not  have  the  courage  to 
undertake  it,  but  would  go  sable-clad  all  her  days.  Mrs. 
Paxton  was  feeling  as  "conspicuous"  as  though  she  were 
habited  in  flaming  red;  and  so  Peyton's  approbation 
partly  soothed  her,  as  an  assurance  that  she  had  done 
the  right  thing,  but  annoyed  her  more  as  proof  that  the 
change  had  been  so  evident. 

Their  party  nearly  filled  the  car — there  had  been 
plenty  of  vacant  seats  going  down  town  at  that  hour — 
and  the  few  other  passengers  were  as  gaily  dressed  as 
themselves — the  ladies  guiltless  of  any  head  covering. 
It  was  as  Margaret  said,  the  whole  town  was  practically 
in  evening  dress  on  summer  evenings,  and  this  summer 
the  Fair  and  the  great  convention  had  added  to  the  uni- 
versal gala  spirit. 

The  swift  rush  up  hill  and  down,  through  the  cool 
evening  ah*  sent  a  strong  breeze  through  the  open  car  that 
swept  away  every  vestige  of  the  heat  that  had  oppressed 
them  indoors,  and  sent  their  exhilarated  spirits  to  the 
highest  point.  Having  the  car  so  nearly  to  themselves, 
conversation  became  almost  as  general  as  at  Mrs.  Thorn- 


THE  LEADER  55 

dyke's  dinner  table,  with  the  men  moving  from  seat  to 
seat  and  much  talk  and  laughter  of  a  more  general  na- 
ture than  is  usually  permissible  in  a  public  vehicle.  The 
few  other  passengers  evidently  did  not  criticise,  but 
smiled  indulgently,  pleased  at  being  admitted  to  what 
seemed  to  them  an  intimate  glimpse  of  some  of  the  city's 
well-known  four  hundred.  But  there  were  two  who 
would  have  liked  it  a  little  less  general — Julie,  who  was 
losing  her  planned-for  tete-a-tete,  and  Hugh,  who  was 
ardently  desiring  one  with  Margaret. 

There  was  no  chance  for  either;  not  even  when  they 
left  the  car  and  walked  a  block  or  two  across  to  The 
Southern,  and  still  less  when  they  had  entered  the  great 
hotel,  where  all  was  a  bewildering  glare  of  lights  and  con- 
fusion of  sounds.  They  stopped  for  a  moment  in  the 
rotunda,  watching  the  kaleidoscopic  effect  of  the  shifting 
groups  of  men,  some  of  them  just  arriving,  suit-case  in 
hand,  but  most  of  them  already  domiciled  and  moving 
about  intent  on  many  schemes:  men  of  the  south,  lank 
of  limb,  long-coated,  broad  hatted,  and  fierce  mus- 
tachioed; men  of  the  west,  sturdy  and  bronzed,  and 
bearded,  in  checked  and  striped  business  suits;  men  of 
the  east,  clean  shaven,  in  light  summer  flannels,  or  even- 
ing dress,  as  though  they  had  dined  sumptuously  and  at 
leisure;  but  east,  or  west,  or  south,  all  alike  eager-eyed 
and  intent  on  the  business  of  the  hour,  while  bell  boys 
and  pages,  bearing  notes  or  cards  and  swelling  with  im- 
portance, darted  in  and  out,  weaving  their  way  through 
the  throng  like  swift-flying  shuttles  of  the  loom. 

They  too  had  to  weave  their  way  with  some  difficulty 


56  THE  LEADER 

through  to  the  elevators,  and  so  up  to  the  first  floor, 
where  Hugh  and  the  young  graduate  had  proceeded  them 
and  secured  luxurious  seats  close  to  the  railing,  where 
they  could  look  down  into  the  open  rotunda  and  watch 
the  panorama  below. 

The  eager  young  collegian  pointed  out  first  one  and 
then  another  celebrity  in  the  great  arm-chairs  lined  up 
against  the  wall — each  surrounded  by  a  dense  circle  of 
advisers,  and  receiving  notes  from  the  hands  of  excited 
bell-boys,  and  scribbling  hasty  replies. 

"How  do  you  know  everybody  and  all  about  them?" 
asked  Peyton  curiously,  when  the  young  fellow  had 
pointed  out  Jim  Burton  of  New  York  and  Bill  McBride 
of  Pennsylvania,  and  had  had  some  clever  stories  to  tell 
of  each. 

"Oh,  we  take  an  interest  in  such  things  at  college, 
you  know,"  answered  the  young  fellow,  modestly  enough, 
though  the  sound  of  it  was  a  bit  conceited,  "and  we're 
always  reading  up  about  the  big  guns  and  telling  one 
another  all  we  know,  and  going  to  hear  them  when  we 
can." 

"Was  I  ever  like  that  at  twenty- two?"  murmured 
Peyton  in  Mrs.  Paxton's  ear. 

"Exactly!"  she  looked  up  and  smiled  brightly  into  his 
face  bending  toward  her.  "Don't  you  remember?  It 
was  an  election  year  the  summer  you  came  home  from 
Harvard,  and  you  went  wild  over  politics:  you  had  no 
eyes  or  ears  for  anything  else." 

"I  remember  very  well  that  I  had  plenty  of  eyes  and 
ears  for  a  girl  of  seventeen  who  bullied  me  dreadfully, 


THE  LEADER  57 

until  she  finally  turned  me  down  for  good." 

Peyton's  tones  were  an  almost  inaudible  murmur,  but 
there  was  no  doubt  of  their  having  reached  the  ears  for 
which  they  were  intended.  There  were  all  the  unmis- 
takeable  signs  of  perfect  comprehension — swiftly  lowered 
eyes,  quickly  averted  head,  elowly  rising  color. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Le  Beau,  do  look  at  that  Mr.  McBride! 
There's  a  man  actually  holding  on  to  him  by  his  button- 
hole, and  he  seems  to  be  trying  to  pull  away.  I  didn't 
suppose  they  really  did  it !  I  thought  it  was  only  a  figure 
of  speech." 

It  was  a  timely  interruption,  Helen  Paxton  thought, 
and  was  grateful  for  it,  without  for  a  moment  supposing 
it  to  be  premeditated.  Peyton  was  not  so  grateful,  but 
was  quite  positive  Julie  Delauney  had  seen  the  little  by- 
play and  "meddled"  with  intent.  For  the  first  time  she 
began  to  appear  to  him  in  somewhat  of  the  light  in  which 
she  had  always  appeared  to  Hugh. 

The  corridor  where  they  were  seated  was  almost  as 
thronged  as  the  rotunda  below.  An  endless  stream  of 
hurrying  men  tramped  by  them,  and  there  was  the  con- 
stant opening  and  shutting  of  doors,  giving  them 
glimpses,  through  blue  clouds  of  smoke,  of  interiors 
crowded  with  men  in  loud  and  excited  discussion. 

Most  of  these  doors  bore  over  them,  on  white  canvas  in 
large  letters,  the  name  of  a  state,  and  above  or  below  the 
canvas,  the  name  or  the  picture  of  some  "favorite  son." 
Over  one  of  the  doors  was  the  name  of  Dalton's  state  and 
above,  a  very  life-like  picture  of  Dalton  himself.  A  little 
further  down  the  corridor  was  a  canvas  bearing  the  name 


58  THE  LEADER 

of  the  great  state  of  New  York,  but  neither  above  or 
below  was  either  name  or  portrait  of  any  favorite  son. 
Margaret  asked  why  that  was,  and  as  usual  the  collegian 
was  ready  with  the  reply. 

"Oh,  that  will  be  one  of  the  great  fights  of  the  conven- 
tion. There  are  two  big  factions  in  New  York,  you  know, 
and  one  of  them  wants  Dalton,  believing  he  is  the  real 
choice  of  the  party,  but  Jim  Burton  and  his  faction  will 
have  none  of  him  unless  he  will  give  up  the  trust  plank. 
Burton  's  certain  the  party  can't  carry  New  York  with 
that  plank  in,  and  as  New  York  goes,  so  goes  the  Union 
this  year,  they  say.  He'd  rather  have  'most  any  one 
than  Dalton  anyhow,  but  his  state  has  the  unit  rule,  so 
if  Dalton  will  only  give  up  the  trusts,  his  faction  will  join 
the  other  and  put  him  up  for  the  state  nominee." 

"Do  you  think  he'll  do  it?"  Margaret  asked,  and  list- 
ened for  the  answer  with  an  anxiety  that  astonished  her- 
self. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know;  there's  a  lot  of  different  opinions 
about  Dalton.  Some  people  claim  he's  a  time-server 
and  will  do  anything  to  get  the  nomination;  but  I  be- 
lieve myself  he's  honest  and  has  the  courage  of  his  con- 
victions." 

Down  the  corridor  at  the  moment  came  one  of  the 
big  "Bosses,"  red  of  face,  puffing  and  steaming  and 
blowing,  a  dozen  men  almost  literally  hanging  on  to  his 
coat-skirts,  and  looking  like  nothing  so  much  as  like  a 
panting  little  tug  towing  a  fleet  of  barges  up  stream. 

"Excuse  me  a  moment,  Miss  Le  Beau,"  the  collegian 
exclaimed.  "I  am  indebted  to  that  man  for  my  seat  in 


THE  LEADER  59 

the  convention,  and  this  is  my  opportunity  to  thank 
him  for  it,  and  incidentally  to  get  a  chance  to  hear 
him  speak."  And  the  alert  young  fellow,  his  interest 
and  curiosity  as  fresh  as  if  he  were  still  a  Sophomore  at 
Yale,  darted  away  to  intercept  the  tug  and  its  fleet. 

Margaret  watched  him,  smiling;  saw  him  stop  the 
great  man  a  moment  in  his  labored  progress;  saw  the 
quick  frown  of  annoyance  at  being  intercepted,  change 
to  a  genial  smile;  and  then  saw  him  motion  the  young 
fellow  to  accompany  him,  as  he  resumed  his  progress 
towards  a  door  farther  down  the  corridor. 

The  collegian  came  back  in  a  few  minutes,  laughing 
gaily— 

"Well,  I  did  it!  and  he  didn't  eat  me  up  either,  as  I 
half  expected  him  to.  Wouldn't  I  like  to  tell  our  fellows 
how  I  met  and  talked  with  the  great  man!  But 
say !  that  was  his  room  he  went  into !  I  didn't  go  in,  you 
know,  I  stopped  at  the  door,  but  I  counted  one  bed  and 
seven  cots,  and  a  dozen  men  at  least;  and  the  room  so 
thick  with  smoke  you  could  cut  it!  How's  that  for  a 
multi-millionaire !" 

They  were  sitting  near  the  door  of  one  of  the  large 
parlors  bearing  the  inscription  "Credentials  Committee," 
and  at  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  clear  above  the 
din  of  many  voices,  Margaret  heard  the  silvery  tones  that 
had  sent  her  blood  tingling  in  the  afternoon.  She  looked 
up  quickly.  He  was  just  coming  through  the  door  of  the 
committee-room,  a  small  knot  of  men  about  him,  all 
apparently  trying  to  talk  at  once,  looking  anxious,  and, 
Margaret  thought,  disappointed.  She  could  distinguish 


60  THE  LEADER 

nothing  but  a  babble  of  sound  mingling  with  the  other 
babble  all  about  her,  until  once  more  she  heard  dis- 
tinctly the  clear  strong  tones. 

"I'm  sorry,  boys.  I'll  do  all  I  can  for  you.  You're 
right  and  you  ought  to  be  seated — it  will  be  a  disgrace  to 
your  state  if  you're  not.  I'll  work  for  you  and  talk  for 
you,  but  I  can't  go  on  the  Credentials  Committee.  I 
must  be  on  the  Resolutions  Committee." 

They  seemed  to  take  it  good-naturedly,  in  spite  of 
their  evident  disappointment,  as  they  stopped  a  moment 
near  her  for  a  few  last  words,  Dalton  sending  them  off 
with  a  genial  smile  and  hand-clasp  for  each.  One  man 
only  was  left  with  him,  and  the  two  turned  to  walk  down 
the  corridor  towards  Margaret's  party. 

In  the  act  of  turning,  Dalton  caught  sight  of  Margaret, 
and  his  face  flashed  instant  recognition  and  pleasure. 
She  had  been  caught  looking  at  him  and  it  embarrassed 
her  slightly,  so  that  she  returned  his  eager  bow  more 
coldly  than  she  might  have  done,  but  it  did  not  daunt 
him  in  the  least;  or  if  it  did,  he  did  not  let  it  be  seen.  He 
turned  to  the  man  beside  him  and  spoke  with  lowered 
voice,  but  not  so  low  but  that  Margaret  heard  his  last 
words — "Come  back  to  my  room  later" — then  he  came 
directly  toward  her,  hand  outstretched,  and  she  could 
not  help  but  extend  her  own  with  some  show  of  cordiality, 
and  murmur  some  polite  return  to  his  earnest,  "This  is  a 
great  pleasure,  Miss  Le  Beau." 

Those  in  the  party  who  had  met  him  before,  were  cor- 
dial enough  to  atone  for  any  possible  lack  in  Margaret — • 
unless  it  might  have  been  that  Peyton  looked  a  little 


THE  LEADER  61 

askance  at  him,  for  he  had  not  quite  liked  his  singling  out 
Margaret  for  his  first  and  most  eager  greeting.  The 
young  collegian  flushed  with  mingled  awe  and  pleasure 
when  he  was  presented  to  him,  for  here  was  a  far  greater 
man  to  "tell  our  fellows  about." 

It  was  Mrs.  Paxton  who  said  to  him: 

"Is  your  time  so  valuable  this  evening  that  you  can't 
spare  us  a  few  minutes,  Mr.  Dal  ton?  indicating  a  chair 
beside  her  as  she  spoke. 

He  glanced  quickly  at  Margaret,  hoping  she  would 
second  the  invitation,  but  Hugh  was  murmuring  some- 
thing in  her  ear  and  she  either  did  not  hear  Mrs.  Paxton, 
or  pretended  not  to.  He  had  to  make  his  reply  without 
getting  what  he  wanted. 

"Thank  you,  Mrs.  Paxton,  I  think  I  have  worked  hard 
enough  since  I  left  you  this  afternoon,  to  have  secured  a 
little  rest  and  pleasure,  if  you  will  let  me  stay  a  few  min- 
utes. I  have  an  engagement  a  little  later." 

For  the  next  ten  minutes  conversation  Was  general 
and  extremely  animated,  for  there  was  such  simple  cor- 
diality in  John's  nature  as  to  draw  out  a  ready  return  in 
kind,  and  most  of  those  present  had  already  come  under 
the  magnetism  of  his  strong  personality.  The  young 
collegian  had  yielded  to  it  at  once,  and  Hugh,  who  had 
held  his  judgment  in  abeyance  during  the  oration  of  the 
afternoon,  had  surrendered  unconditionally  at  Mrs.  Pax- 
ton's  tea,  and  was  now  his  staunchest  admirer.  Only 
Peyton  still  kept  critically  aloof — for  he  could  not  yet 
decide  in  his  own  mind  that  the  man  was  not  a  political 
demagogue  playing  his  part  cleverly— and  Margaret, 


62  THE  LEADER 

sensitive  to  her  brother's  attitude  and  embarrassed  by 
it,  took  but  little  part  in  the  conversation. 

John,  who  perforce  was  doing  most  of  the  talking, 
compelled  thereto  by  his  admiring  circle,  addressed  no 
word  to  her,  though  more  than  once  his  keen,  observant 
glance  rested  upon  her  for  a  brief  moment.  His  eyes 
did  not  betray  him,  and  it  was  but  another  evidence  of 
the  strength  of  the  man,  that  he  went  on  talking  clearly 
and  collectedly,  when  each  glance  left  him  a  little  more 
dazed  and  bewildered  by  the  exceeding  loveliness  of 
Margaret  in  evening  dress.  He  had  thought  her  lovely 
in  the  afternoon,  with  a  loveliness  that  reminded  him  of  the 
pretty  child  of  seventeen  years  before,  but  he  could  see 
no  trace  of  the  child  in  this  radiant  woman  under  the  flood 
of  electric  lights  that  brought  out  each  rich  tint  of  hair 
and  cheek,  and  every  beautiful  curve  of  brow  and  lip  and 
throat,  carrying  herself  like  a  queen  and  looking  like  one, 
in  her  trailing  robes  of  pale  blue,  half  veiled  in  the  soft 
chiffon  of  her  long  evening  wrap.  He  had  been  keenly 
sensitive  to  her  brother's  attitude  towards  him,  but  it 
was  not  the  unexpressed  hostility  of  the  brother  that 
daunted  him — that  made  him  hesitate  to  carry  out  the 
plan  he  had  formulated  to  himself  so  distinctly  in  the 
afternoon,  for  renewing  his  friendly  acquaintance  with 
the  little  Peggy  of  old — it  was  the  aloofness  in  which  she 
was  set  by  her  beauty  and,  perhaps  by  an  intangible  air 
of  pride  of  cast,  that  proved  to  be  a  defense  with  which 
he  had  no  weapons  to  cope. 

Twice  when  his  glance  had  dwelt  upon  her  for  that 
brief  moment,  her  eyes  had  been  down  resting  upon  the 


THE  LEADER  63 

fan  in  her  lap  with  which  she  was  idly  toying.  The  third 
time  he  had  just  replied  to  a  remark  from  Hugh.  Hugh 
was  beginning  to  feel  that  he  was  of  Dalton's  party,  re- 
gardless of  platform  or  principles,  and  so  he  was  asking 
rather  anxiously  much  the  same  question  that  had  come 
up  in  the  afternoon. 

"Do  you  think  there's  any  chance  of  your  party  win- 
ning unless  you  radically  change  your  platform?" 

And  John  had  given  in  substance  the  same  answer  he 
had  given  before,  but  quietly  and  without  the  effect  of 
bristling  which  had  been  noticeable  in  his  reply  to  Pey- 
ton: 

"I  think  we  stand  a  very  good  chance  this  year,  but  we 
would  lose  cheerfully  for  the  next  fifty  years  rather  than 
give  up  the  least  of  the  principles  for  which  we  are  mak- 
ing our  fight."  And  Margaret  could  no  more  have 
helped  the  swift  lifting  of  her  eyes  to  his,  and  no  more 
have  kept  out  of  them  the  glowing  admiration  and  sym- 
pathy, than  John  could  help  turning  his  eyes  to  her  for 
that  sympathy  he  was  so  sure  he  would  find. 

That  look  won  the  day  for  him  and  renewed  with 
added  vigor  his  determination  of  the  afternoon.  He  had 
but  a  few  minutes  more  to  stay.  Bell-boys  had  been 
bringing  him  notes  at  intervals,  to  which,  with  a  word 
of  apology,  he  had  scribbled  hasty  answers,  but  now  one 
was  presented  that  seemed  of  a  more  imperative  nature. 

"Tell  Mr.  Seton  I  will  be  with  him  immediately,"  he 
said,  and  then  began  his  adieux  in  leisurely  fashion,  mak- 
ing gallant  little  speeches  to  each  lady  in  turn. 


64  THE  LEADER 

"Miss  Le  Beau,"  he  said,  as  he  came  to  her  last,  "Were 
you  ever  a  mascot?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of,"  began  Margaret,  wondering  at 
the  oddity  of  his  question,  and  then  with  a  swift  return 
of  a  dim  memory  and  a  musing  smile — "Oh,  yes,  once" — 
when  I  was  a  child." 

"Have  you  any  objections  to  being  one?" 

"Not  in  the  least,  provided  I  am  not  to  be  exhibited 
publicly  in  bizarre  costume,  like  the  mascots  at  football; 
but  why?" 

"Oh,  you  know  we  politicians  are  dreadfully  super- 
stitious— it's  our  one  weakness" — with  gay  irony.  "And 
the  rule  for  mascots  is :  Take  the  most  beautiful  thing 
you  see  twice  in  succession  on  the  eve  of  conflict.  So 
will  you  consent  to  serve  and  help  me  to  win  in  the  con- 
vention?" 

She  could  not  be  offended  with  the  baldness  of  his 
compliment,  because  of  his  laughing  manner  of  making 
it,  as  of  one  saying  a  true  thing  in  idle  jest;  so  she  an- 
swered him  in  his  own  jesting  spirit: 

"You  make  it  impossible  for  me  to  refuse."  And  then, 
with  a  sudden  significant  change  in  tone  and  glance,  she 
added— "But  win  what?" 

He  colored  quickly,  and  turned  grave  at  once,  speak- 
ing in  a  lower  tone  so  that  the  others,  who  were  now  all 
rising  and  making  hurried  preparations  for  departure, 
the  lateness  of  the  hour  having  suddenly  impressed  itself 
upon  them,  did  not  hear : 

"Oh,  I  did  not  suppose  you  could  misunderstand.  It 
is  no  personal  fight  I  wish  you  to  champion,  but  a  fight  for 


THE  LEADER  65 

those  principles  by  which  I  believe  our  party  should 
stand  or  fall — a  fight  in  which  I  was  sure  I  could  rely 
upon  your  sympathy  and  encouragement." 

And  Margaret,  kindling  again  with  an  ardor  like  to  the 
ardor  of  the  farmer  lad  in  Festival  Hall,  answered: 

"You  can  rely  upon  both." 


CHAPTER  V. 

ON  THE  EVE  OF  THE   CONFLICT. 

Mr.  Seton  met  Mr.  Dalton  half  way  down  the  corridor, 
and  walked  with  him  to  the  door  of  his  room. 

"Well,"  he  said  with  a  deprecatory  laugh,  "did  I  do 
right?  You  told  me  to  send  for  you  if  you  didn't  come 
in  ten  minutes,  and  I  waited  fifteen.  I  hope  I  didn't 
send  too  soon  after  all — you  seemed  to  be  having 
a  very  good  time." 

"Not  a  bit  too  soon !  I'm  afraid  as  it  is  I  stayed  longer 
than  was  good  for  me.  But  come  in,  come  in,  Frank," 
he  urged,  holding  his  door  open,  "you  said  you  had  some- 
thing of  importance  to  say  to  me." 

The  other  hesitated  a  moment. 

"I  ought  to  let  you  get  some  sleep — it's  twelve  o'clock, 
and  perhaps  the  only  night  this  week  you'll  be  able  to 
get  to  bed,  with  the  convention  and  committees  and  sub- 
committees." 

"Oh,  it  won't  be  so  bad  as  that  I  hope.  But  never 
mind,  come  in  anyway.  I'm  not  sleepy  and  I  want  to 
talk  it  over  with  you  again  before  the  fight  begins." 

The  room  was  flooded  with  moon-light,  there  was  no 
need  of  lights  for  talking  and  the  two  men  moved  their 
chairs  by  the  window,  where  a  fitful  breeze  gave  some 
relief  from  the  heat,  lighted  their  cigars  and  then,  each 
waited  for  the  other  to  begin. 


THE  LEADER  67 

John,  however,  was  hardly  waiting.  He  was  enjoying 
the  first  moments  of  quiet  he  had  known  for  the  day  and 
indulging  a  little  in  what  was  to  him  almost  an  untried 
luxury — the  luxury  of  idle  dreams,  where  hair  of  tawny 
gold,  and  starry  eyes,  and  the  low  musical  tones  of  a 
woman's  voice  all  mingled  in  a  delicious  whirl.  So  deep 
was  he  in  his  reverie  that  he  woke  with  a  start  at  the 
sound  of  his  friend's  voice,  and  glanced  swiftly  and 
guiltily  at  him  to  assure  himself  that  his  weakness  had 
not  been  discovered.  But  dreaming  of  a  woman  was  the 
last  thing  anyone  would  have  suspected  John  Dalton  of, 
and  Frank  Seton,  who  knew  him  better  than  anyone 
knew  him,  would  have  been  the  last  man  to  do  the  sus- 
pecting. 

He  was  himself  trying  to  get  his  courage  up  to  say 
what  he  had  come  to  say,  and  was  temporizing  by  an  idle 
question. 

"How  do  you  happen  to  have  a  room  to  yourself,  when 
even  the  big  bosses  have  six  room-mates?" 

"Oh,  they're  good  to  me  here,"  answered  John  smiling- 
ly, "and  I  had  to  have  it,  you  know,  with  all  the  work  I 
have  to  do.  But  I  don't  believe  they  are  charging  me 
any  more  than  they  are  charging  the  other  fellows." 

"I  wouldn't  be  a  bit  surprised  if  they  were  giving  it  to 
you,  they  adore  you  so,"  said  Seton,  with  a  glance  that 
was  itself  not  wholly  free  from  a  suspicion  of  fondness. 
Then  he  went  on  hesitatingly,  "But,  John,  you  don't 
ask  me  what  I  had  of  importance  to  say;  don;t  you  care 
to  hear  it?" 

"Very  much,  Frank.     I've  been  waiting  for  you  to 


68  THE  LEADER 

begin,  and  incidentally  enjoying  this  quiet  smoke  so 
much  after  the  day's  rush,  that  I  was  in  no  hurry  about 
it." 

The  other  seemed  to  hesitate  still  more. 

"You  believe,  John,  don't  you,  that  I  am  heart  and 
soul  with  you  in  your  fight  against  the  trusts?" 

He  seemed  to  wait  for  an  answer,  and  John  reached 
over  and  grasped  his  hand. 

"I  would  as  soon  think  of  doubting  myself  as  of  doubt- 
ing you,  old  fellow,"  and  the  ring  of  his  voice  and  the 
half  tender  smile  on  his  face,  proved  what  men  said  of 
him — that  the  softest  spot  in  John  Dalton's  heart  was 
for  his  life-long  friend,  Frank  Seton. 

"You  make  it  still  harder  for  me  to  say  it,  John,  but 
here  goes.  When  you  were  at  that  tea  this  afternoon,  and 
in  this  last  quarter  of  an  hour  while  you  were  talking 
with  those  people,  I  have  been  industriously  mixing  with 
the  delegates  from  every  state,  and  have  been  proving 
what  everybody  has  been  telling  me,  but  I  would  not  be- 
lie veiJim  Burton  has  this  convention  under  his  thumb. 
What  he  says  goes.  I  have  it  from  his  own  lips  that  he 
will  give  you  the  nomination  if  you  will  give  up  that  trust 
plank.  You  are — " 

But  Seton  did  not  finish  his  sentence.  He  could  see 
in  the  bright  moonlight  that  fell  full  on  John's  face  that 
he  had  been  growing  steadily  paler  and  his  grey  eyes 
darker  and  brighter  till  they  looked  like  black  glowing 
coals.  Now  he  interrupted  his  friend  harshly : 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  you  are  an  emissary  from  Jim 


THE  LEADER  69 

Burton  to  me?  Do  you  come  with  a  bribe  in  your  hand 
to  tempt  me  to  forsake  my  duty?" 

Seton  colored  as  much  as  Dalton  had  paled. 

"Don't  put  it  that  way,  John.  No,  I  am  not  an 
emissary  from  Jim  Burton!  I  resented  his  suggestion 
as  indignantly  as  you  would  have  done,  when  he  made 
it,  and  my  indignation  brought  him  down  a  little,  I  sup- 
pose. He  said,  'Dalton's  the  choice  of  the  other  half  of 
the  party  in  my  state.  Personally  I  very  much  prefer 
Berkeley — he's  a  saner  man.  But  if  Dalton  could  be 
induced  to  give  up  the  trusts,  or  even  to  tone  down  his 
plank,  we'd  unite  on  him;  and  you  know  where  my  state 
leads  half  the  states  of  the  Union  will  follow.' ' 

"How  did  you  answer  him?"  the  words  came  with  a 
harsh  clip. 

"I  answered  him  as  I  believed  you  would  have  me 
answer  him.  I  said  it  was  impossible  to  suggest  such  a 
thing  to  Mr.  Dalton.  The  question  of  trusts  with  you 
was  a  question  of  principle,  not  of  expediency.  Neither 
did  we  grant  his  state  such  an  overwhelming  influence  in 
the  party.  Mr.  Dalton  was  himself  a  power  to  be  ac- 
counted with.  And  as  to  Berkeley's  sanity,  we  had  no 
means  of  deciding — he  might  be  a  fit  subject  for  Bloom- 
ingdale  for  all  that  the  country  could  judge  of  it  from 
.any  utterances  of  his  own." 

In  spite  of  himself,  a  grim  smile  curled  Dalton's  lips, 
but  his  only  reply  was  the  curt  monosyllable — "Well?" 

"Well,  that  was  about  all."  For  the  first  time  John's 
tone  softened: 

"Then  you  are  not  bringing  me  any  bribes  or  even  any 


70  THE  LEADER 

suggestions.  You  are  merely  reporting  to  me  your  con- 
versation with  Jim  Burton." 

"It's  a  little  more  than  that,  John.  Listen  to  me 
patiently,  please,"  as  he  saw  John's  eyes  begin  to  flash 
again.  "I  resented  it  at  the  time,  but  I've  been  think- 
ing it  over  since,  and  talking  with  the  delegates 
from  the  East  and  the  South,  and  this  is  the  way  it  looks 
to  me.  Now — remember  you  are  to  listen  quietly  till  I 
finish!  If  by  modifying  your  trust  plank — making  it  a 
little  less  radical — you  could  secure  the  nomination  for 
the  presidency,  and,  as  I  believe  is  more  than  probable 
this  year,  the  election,  would  you  not  be  accomplishing 
your  purpose  more  surely  than  in  any  other  way?  There 
is  scarcely  any  limit  to  the  power  of  our  Chief  Executive. 
You  can  then  fight  the  trusts  from  a  position  of  advan- 
tage; you  can  crush  them!  But  persist  in  presenting 
your  plank  as  it  now  is,  you  lose  the  nomination  and 
Berkeley  gets  it.  Then  even  if  you  succeed  in  getting 
your  plank  into  the  platform  (Burton  says  you  never 
will)  Berkeley  as  President  will  ignore  it.  He's  an  eastern 
man  and  he's  not  going  to  fight  his  friends.  The  ques- 
tion is,  whether  you  are  not  betraying  your  friends  and 
your  principles  more  by  not  compromising,  than  by 
compromising." 

"Frank,  Frank,"  said  Dalton,  shaking  his  head  sadly, 
"shall  I  have  to  say  to  you — 'Get  thee  behind  me, 
Satan!'  You  are  presenting  to  me  the  very  arguments 
the  devil  has  been  tormenting  me  with  all  this  afternoon 
and  evening,  and  in  his  very  words.  Did  you  see  those 
farmer  boys  pour  into  Festival  Hall  this  afternoon? 


THE  LEADER  71 

They  were  my  lads  from  the  West  and  the  South.  They 
are  relying  on  me  to  fight  their  battle  with  the  trusts  for 
them;  their  battle  with  the  great  food  trusts  that  grind 
down  the  price  of  cattle  and  corn  paid  to  the  farmer 
until,  labor  as  he  may,  he  can  earn  a  bare  livelihood,  and 
put  up  the  price  of  bread  and  beef  to  his  fellow  worker  in 
the  cities  until,  toil  as  he  may,  he  cannot  keep  the  wolf 
from  the  door.  They  are  trusting  me  to  fight  their  bat- 
tles with  the  railroads,  with  their  iniquitous  rebates  to 
the  great  monopolies  and  their  prohibitive  high  rates  to 
the  farmers!  Oh,  you  know  them  all,  the  whole  long 
list  of  iniquities;  and  you  know  how  they  grind  the  faces 
of  my  boys  in  the  West  and  the  South.  And  those 
boys  are  trusting  me!  How  can  I  betray  them!" 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  began  to  walk  up  and  down 
the  room  excitedly.  His  cigar  had  gone  out;  he  stopped 
and  lighted  another,  but  only  puffed  at  it  fitfully  as,  with 
bent  head  and  arms  crossed  behind  him,  he  strode  back 
and  forth. 

His  friend  did  not  speak;  but  sat  and  watched  him 
silently  and  anxiously.  For  full  five  minutes  the  silence 
was  unbroken,  then  John  brought  himself  to  an  abrupt 
stop  before  Seton's  chair. 

"Frank,"  he  said,  with  a  queer  little  hesitancy  in  his 
tones,  quite  foreign  to  him,  "You  are  always  laughing  at 
me  for  being  superstitious,  but  perhaps  even  you  will 
think  there  is  something  strange  in  this.  If  at  each 
great  crisis  in  your  life  there  had  appeared  to  you  a  beau- 
tiful creature  (whom  you  never  saw  except  at  those 
crises),  and  if  success  had  always  followed,  would  you 


72  THE  LEADER 

not  feel  as  if  she  were  a  symbol  to  you,  and  would  not 
her  reappearance  begin  to  seem  to  you  almost  an  assur- 
ance of  success?" 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  Seton  wonderingly,  for  John 
seemed  to  be  waiting  for  an  answer  to  his  question. 
"But  I  wish  you  would  be  a  little  more  explicit;  is  this  a 
vision  that  returns,  or  a  flesh  and  blood  reality?" 

John  ignored  the  question. 

"The  day  I  began  my  college  career — " 

"And  what  a  career  it  was!"  interrupted  his  college 
chum  enthusiastically,  who  could  never  hear  college  re- 
ferred to  without  becoming  a  boy  again. 

John  smiled  sympathetically  and  started  again.  "The 
day  I  began  my  college  career,  I  met  a  beautiful  child 
who  interested  me  greatly  and  of  whom  I  often  thought, 
but  did  not  see  again  until  four  years  later.  On  the  day 
that  I  was  entering  this  very  city  to  make  my  start  in 
life,  I  met  her  again,  older,  of  course,  but  still  a  child. 
She  seemed  to  me  then  a  harbinger  of  good  luck,  and  I 
asked  her,  half  in  jest,  half  in  earnest,  if  she  would  be 
my  'mascot.'  I  think  I  can  say  modestly,  my  life  has 
not  been  a  failure." 

"A  marvelous  success!"  interjected  Seton,  but  this 
time  John  did  not  notice  the  interruption  even  by  a 
smile. 

"To-day,  at  the  third  great  crisis  of  my  life,  I  met  her 
again,  no  longer  a  child,  but  a  beautiful  woman — I  think 
the  most  beautiful  I  have  ever  seen.  Coming  on  the  eve 
of  a  great  conflict,  and  coming  for  the  third  time  (which 
meant  'charm'  you  know,  in  our  childish  days),  would 


THE  LEADER  73 

you  not  think  she  comes  as  an  assurance  of  success?" 

Without  waiting  for  Seton  to  agree  with  him,  he  hur- 
ried on: 

"But — almost  as  soon  as  she  appears,  this  tormenting 
question  of  a  compromise  is  suggested,  first  by  my  own 
thoughts,  and  then  by  my  trusted  friend  voicing  my 
very  thoughts — till  I  almost  think  at  times  I  hear  her 
say — 'If  you  compromise,  I  will  bring  you  success.'  " 

He  resumed  his  rapid  stride,  head  once  more  bent,  and 
for  another  five  minutes  the  silence  was  unbroken.  He 
stopped  again  as  abruptly  as  before,  but  this  time  to 
throw  up  his  head  with  a  laugh. 

"Frank,  no  doubt  you  already  think  me  a  silly,  super- 
stitious old  woman,  but  listen !  There's  more  and  worse. 
That  child,  the  second  time  I  saw  her,  gave  me  a  little  gold- 
en curl,  and  I  told  her  I  would  keep  it,  and  when  I  became 
President  of  the  United  States  and  she  was  a  beautiful 
young  lady,  I  would  call  on  her  and  show  her  the  curl 
and  say  to  her,  'Behold  the  talisman  that  has  brought 
me  wealth  and  fame!'  I  have  always  carried  the  curl  in 
my  watch — for  luck — though  for  years  the  thought  of 
the  child  has  passed  almost  as  completely  from  my  mind 
as  I  know  I  have  passed  from  hers.  But  to-day  it  has 
all  come  vividly  back,  and  with  it  a  foolish  feeling  that 
it  would  add  greatly  to  my  triumph,  if  I  should  win  the 
nomination  and  afterwards  the  election,  to  be  able  to  go 
to  her  and  make  that  silly  little  speech." 

John  glanced  sheepishly  at  his  friend,  awaiting  the 
ridicule  he  knew  he  deserved.  But  to  his  surprise  Seton 
seemed  greatly  agitated.  He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  took 


74  THE  LEADER 

hold  of  John's  arm  roughly,  almost  with  the  effect  of 
giving  him  a  shake. 

"John,  John!"  he  exclaimed  anxiously,  "You  don't 
mean  you're  falling  in  love  at  your  age!  and  just  now  at 
this  crisis,  of  all  times!" 

The  dismay  in  his  face  was  too  real  and  too  great  to  be 
made  light  of,  but  also  it  was  too  irresistibly  funny.  John 
threw  back  his  head  and  laughed,  peal  upon  peal,  until 
he  saw  Seton  was  growing  angry.  Then  with  a  mighty 
effort,  he  sobered  at  once.  He  laid  his  arm  affection- 
ately over  his  friend's  shoulder — he  was  the  taller  of  the 
two. 

"Well,  well,"  he  said,  "what  confirmed  old  bachelors 
we  two  must  be !  I  never  realized  it  before,  but  the  fact 
that  you  consider  falling  in  love  the  direst  catastrophe 
that  could  befall  me,  gives  me  a  'realizing  sense.'  No, 
old  comrade,  I'm  not  'falling  in  love.'  I'll  never  desert 
Micawber!  We  two  will  go  down  the  hill  together,  as  we 
have  climbed  it  together." 

There  was  some  real  feeling  in  the  tones  in  which  he 
uttered  his  last  words,  and  Seton  acknowledged  it  by  a 
silent  pressure  of  the  hand  he  was  holding.  Then  he 
spoke  abruptly — 

"I  must  go,  and  give  you  a  chance  at  some  sleep.  But 
you  will  think  of  what  I  said,  John?" 

Dalton's  face,  which  had  been  half  tender  as  he  looked 
at  Seton,  clouded  again,  and  he  thought  a  moment  before 
he  spoke. 

"Yes,  I'll  think  of  it,"  he  said  slowly,  "and  give  you 
my  answer  to-morrow.  Good  night,  old  friend." 


THE  LEADER  75 

Left  to  himself,  he  tried  conscientiously  for  five  min- 
utes to  think  of  it,  but  he  found  that  he  was  thinking  in- 
stead— what  would  she  say?  He  gave  it  up,  flung  away 
his  cigar,  and  sat  for  the  next  five  minutes,  his  head  rest- 
ing on  the  back  of  his  chair,  a  smile  on  his  lips,  gazing 
dreamily  out  at  the  moon  riding  high  in  the  sky  through 
flotillas  of  fleecy  white  clouds.  He  sprang  to  his  feet  as 
he  finished  his  revery,  flung  back  his  head — a  trick  left 
over  from  boyhood — and  spoke  aloud. 

"I  would  like  to  be  able  to  make  that  speech  to  her — 
she's  a  glorious  woman!"  A  moment  later,  a  little  cloud 
came  over  his  face  as  Seton's  expression,  'at  your  age/ 
recurred  to  him.  He  turned  on  the  electric  light  and 
looked  at  himself  in  the  glass.  "Am  I  so  old?"  he 
thought  half  wistfully,  "I'm  not  yet  forty-three- and  she 
must  be  nearly  thirty."  And  then  realizing  what  he 
was  doing,  he  gave  himself  a  vigorous  shake,  while  his 
eyes  twinkled  with  laughter  at  his  own  expense : 

"Yes,  you  old  woman,"  he  said  to  the  figure  in  the 
glass,  "you  are  old;  old  enough  to  be  her  grandmother!" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A  MAN'S  DELIBERATIONS :  A  WOMAN'S  INTUITIONS. 

Dalton  rose  early  the  next  morning;  it  would  be  a  full 
day  with  him  and  he  must  get  ready  for  it.  His  way  of 
getting  ready  was  to  ring  for  a  cup  of  coffee  and  order  a 
horse;  a  cold  plunge,  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  an  early  morn- 
ing gallop  would  make  him  fit  for  anything. 

He  rode  west  until  he  struck  the  Boulevard,  and  then 
on,  past  the  beautiful  residences  of  the  western  part  of 
the  city.  He  wondered  which  one  of  them  was  Miss  Le 
Beau's  home,  but  it  was  an  idle  wonder,  he  had  no  idea 
even  in  what  part  of  the  city  she  lived. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  park  he  drew  rein  a  minute  and 
looked  over  the  beautiful  picture  spread  out  before  him. 
The  low  morning  sun  was  at  his  back,  bringing  it  all  out 
with  the  clearness  of  an  etching.  Directly  in  front  of 
him  the  broad  drive  dipped  and  curved  away  under  the 
wide  arch  of  a  great  railroad  bridge,  leaving  him  a  com- 
manding view  of  the  deep  vales  and  wooded  ridges  of  the 
park  rising  beyond,  one  above  the  other,  until,  a  mile  or 
two  to  the  west,  they  were  bounded  by  the  wonderful 
battlements  and  towers  and  sculptured  minarets  and 
gilded  domes  of  the  great  Fair,  sparkling  and  glowing  in 
the  level  rays  of  the  morning  sun  against  their  back- 
ground of  deep  blue  sky,  like  fairy  palaces  of  a  dream 
vision. 

A  little  mist  hung  over  the  tops  of  the  wooded  ridges, 


THE  LEADER  77 

rising  from  the  little  river  that  in  its  winding  course 
through  the  park  doubled  on  itself  a  dozen  times.  A 
great  western  flyer  was  rushing  across  the  railway  bridge 
towards  the  city,  with  the  noise  of  thunder,  its  long  line 
of  sleepers  suggesting  to  Dalton  the  hot  and  dusty  dis- 
comfort of  the  crowded  passengers,  and  giving  him  a 
keener  sense  of  the  dewy  freshness  of  the  early  morning. 

He  followed  the  curving  road  as  it  led  him  under  the 
railway  bridge,  and  then  over  a  picturesque  bridge  of 
stone,  crossing  the  winding  little  river,  until  he  struck  a 
narrow  bridle  path  leading  away  from  the  main  drives.  At 
that  early  hour  he  was  as  much  alone  in  the  park  as  if  he 
were  in  the  depths  of  a  virgin  forest;  squirrels  were 
scampering  along  the  boughs,  thrushes  were  calling  to 
one  another  from  distant  coverts,  brilliant  orioles  were 
flashing  from  tree  to  tree,  and  a  cardinal  bird,  like  a 
tongue  of  musical  flame,  was  fluting  his  exquisite  song  to 
his  mate.  It  was  an  hour  for  clear  thought  and  high  re- 
solve. All  the  doubts  that  had  harrassed  and  distressed 
him  the  night  before,  fled  away  in  this  quiet  hour,  as  the 
rising  mists  from  the  little  River  des  Peres  were  fleeing 
before  the  morning  sun.  Now  there  was  no  question  of 
expediency,  there  was  but  the  one  question  of  right. 

His  path  wound  up  over  one  of  the  wooded  ridges.  He 
wheeled  his  horse  on  the  crest  and  faced  the  sun  and  the 
city,  lying  under  its  low  perpetual  dun-colored  cloud. 
He  knew  that  back  there,  if  any  rays  of  the  sun  filtered 
through  that  cloud  of  smoke,  they  were  colorless  and 
feeble;  up  here  he  stood  in  the  glorious  flood  of  sunshine, 
the  fresh,  pure  morning  air  entering  his  lungs  like  wine 


78  THE  LEADER 

and  sending  the  blood  racing  through  his  veins  with  the 
vigor  of  twenty-one.  It  was  perfectly  plain  to  him  now 
— no  sophistries  could  dim  the  clear  mental  vision  of  the 
morning — there  was  a  great  principle  at  stake,  and  win 
the  prize  or  lose  it,  he  would  be  true  to  his  colors.  He 
lifted  his  hat  with  some  unconscious  feeling  of  being  in  a 
great  Presence,  and  said  to  himself  reverently,  "I  will 
stand  or  fall  by  God's  eternal  truth." 

He  was  an  hour's  ride  from  his  hotel,  and  the  sun 
would  have  told  him,  even  if  he  had  not  glanced  at  his 
watch,  that  the  day  was  advancing.  He  put  his  horse 
to  a  swift  gallop  through  the  deserted  park  roads,  and 
then  to  a  brisk  and  more  circumspect  trot  along  the  boule- 
vards and  streets,  reaching  his  hotel  in  time  for  a  sub- 
stantial eight  o'clock  breakfast,  which  he  enjoyed  with 
the  keen  appetite  of  a  man  who  has  had  the  best  of  tonics 
— a  morning  ride.  And  also  with  the  zest  of  one  who, 
after  a  time  of  struggle,  is  once  more  at  peace  with  his 
conscience;  and  with  the  added  zest  of  a  born  fighter, 
who  knows  the  arena  is  ready  and  who  feels  himself  in 
perfect  fighting  trim. 

He  picked  up  the  morning  paper  and  read  there  the 
account  of  the  Standard  Oil  Company's  first  move  in  its 
battle  with  the  Kansas  Legislature  over  state  refineries, 
and  the  vindictiveness  and  cruelty  of  the  measures  re- 
sorted to  by  the  great  trust,  stirred  his  blood  to  boiling 
and  confirmed  him  in  the  righteousness  of  his  decision. 

In  his  mail  was  a  little  note  from  Mrs.  Paxton,  asking 
him  if  it  would  be  possible  to  come  out  to  dinner  that 
evening,  quite  informally,  only  the  Le  Beaus  and  them- 


THE  LEADER  79 

selves;  and  adding,  they  would  be  glad  to  have  him  bring 
his  friend,  Mr.  Seton,  if  he  would,  of  whom  they  had 
heard  much. 

His  first  impulse  was  that  it  was  impossible — there 
would  be  meetings  of  committees  that  he  could  not  shirk 
if  he  would.  His  second  impulse  was  that  he  would  like 
greatly  to  accept  this  invitation,  if  it  were  possible,  for 
he  might  find  a  chance  to  lay  before  Miss  Le  Beau  the 
moral  dilemma  that  had  confronted  him  but  which  he 
had  solved.  Not  that  her  opinion  would  in  any  way 
affect  his  decision — that  was  made  for  all  time — but  he 
curiously  desired  to  know  what  her  attitude  would  be  in 
such  a  crucial  test.  His  third  impulse  was  that,  perhaps, 
after  all  it  was  not  impossible — it  might  be  arranged. 

He  freed  himself  from  the  throng  that  waylaid  him  as 
he  left  the  dining-room,  long  enough  to  call  up  Mrs.  Pax- 
ton  by  telephone,  for  so  she  had  asked  him  to  reply.  He 
said  he  had  a  committee  meeting  at  nine,  but  if  he  could 
present  himself  at  the  early  hour  of  seven  he  would  have 
an  hour  or  an  hour  and  a  half  at  his  disposal.  Mrs.  Pax- 
ton  assured  him  they  would  be  grateful  for  so  much,  and 
since  the  hour  was  early  and  the  time  short  they  would 
have  summer  high  tea  instead  of  a  formal  dinner. 

He  accepted  for  his  friend  Seton  without  consulting 
him,  and  when  he  informed  him  of  that  fact  he  found  he 
had  very  nearly  over-stepped  his  privileges.  There  was 
not  much  Seton  would  not  do  for  Dalton,  but  to  go  to  a 
strange  house  to  meet  "a  lot  of  women,"  seemed  to  be 
where  he  drew  the  line.  It  required  all  Dalton's  elo- 
quence and  a  final  appeal  to  friendship  to  win  at  last  a 


80  THE  LEADER 

reluctant  consent  to  keep  the  engagement  his  friend  had 
made  for  him. 

John  was  more  pleased  at  Frank's  final  surrender  than 
the  occasion  would  seem  to  warrant.  He  hardly  knew 
himself  why  he  should  be  so  pleased,  but  without  doubt 
he  was  anxious  that  his  friend  should  meet  Miss  Le  Beau 
and  come  under  the  influence  of  her  winning  personality, 
for  to  himself  he  had  already  begun  to  count  her  in  his 
list  of  friends,  and  deplored  the  antagonism  toward  her 
that  he  thought  he  had  detected  in  Frank,  his  oldest  and 
best  of  friends. 

Promptly  at  seven,  the  two  men  presented  themselves 
at  Mrs.  Paxton's  handsome  house  in  beautiful  Devon- 
shire Place,  and  found  the  company  already  assembled 
and  at  ease  on  the  shady  lawn  and  cool  stone  terrace.  It 
was  as  Mrs.  Paxton  had  promised,  quite  a  family  affair, 
except  that  Julie  Delauney  and  a  visiting  friend  of  hers 
had  been  added,  presumably  to  balance  the  table  with 
Hugh  and  Mr.  Seton. 

Seton,  from  the  moment  he  had  caught  a  glimpse  of 
the  light  dresses  through  the  trees,  as  they  approached 
the  house,  had  not  ceased  to  grumble  and  mutter  under 
his  breath,  and  Dalton  was  whimsically  afraid  that  he 
might  be  tempted  to  make  a  display  to  his  hostess  and 
the  other  ladies  of  his  distaste  for  feminine  society.  But 
nothing  could  exceed  the  suavity  of  Frank's  manners 
when  once  fairly  undergoing  the  ordeal  of  the  presenta- 
tions, a  suavity  whose  excess  might  lead  one  to  suspect 
it  donned  as  a  cloak  for  embarrassment.  Julie,  who 
knew  him  well  by  reputation  as  immensely  rich  and  a 


THE  LEADER  81 

great  catch,  but  as  difficult  to  land  as  a  Saguenay  salmon, 
made  at  once  what  her  friends  would  have  called  a  "dead 
set"  for  him;  not  probably  with  any  definite  purpose,  but 
because  it  was  her  nature  to  miss  no  opportunities;  and 
Frank,  who  was  too  sure  of  himself  to  feel  any  necessity 
of  being  on  guard,  did  not  object  to  her  angling,  as  it  re- 
lieved him  from  all  responsibility  in  the  matter  of  enter- 
tainment. Also,  Julie  had  a  bright  and  dainty  way  of 
dressing  up  her  bait  that  rather  tickled  the  palate  of  the 
old  recluse;  and  much  to  his  own  surprise  he  found 
himself  enjoying  this  dinner  that  he  had  looked  forward 
to  with  equal  dread  and  scorn. 

Mrs.  Paxton  was  nervously  afraid  of  delaying  her 
guest  of  honor  beyond  his  alloted  time,  and  so  sum- 
moned them  all  at  once  to  the  table,  having  secured  the 
promptness  of  the  others  by  inviting  them  for  a  quarter 
before  the  hour.  The  table  was  set  on  that  part  of  the 
stone  terrace  that  continued  around  the  side  of  the  house, 
and  which  trees  and  shrubbery  screened  sufficiently  from 
any  passers-by.  She  had  redeemed  her  promise  also  of 
making  it  a  high  tea  instead  of  a  formal  dinner,  and 
dainty  little  dishes  took  the  place  of  heavy  courses,  with 
a  delicious  salad  tossed  up  deftly  and  quickly  at  the  table 
by  the  hostess,  who  justly  prided  herself  on  her  salad 
dressing.  All  voted  it  a  delightful  innovation  and  were 
in  favor  of  making  high  teas  a  permanent  substitute  for 
dinners  in  summer,  and  everyone  likewise  was  in  high 
good  humor  with  himself  and  his  hostess  and  the  talk 
was  as  easy  and  informal  as  the  dinner. 

Julie  was  a  little  more  obviously  and  appealingly 


82  THE  LEADER 

young  than  usual  in  her  way  of  lifting  her  soft  dark  eyes 
half  timidly  to  Mr.  Seton,  and  this  man,  with  his  hair 
already  showing  grey  at  the  temples,  but  as  innocent  of 
woman's  wiles  as  a  babe,  thought  her  a  sweet  child  and 
patronized  her  accordingly — much  to  Julie's  delight  and 
to  the  amusement  of  the  others.  Unless  they  were  ill- 
natured  enough  to  say,  as  Hugh  said  to  Margaret,  whom 
he  had  been  permitted  to  take  out  to  dinner : 

"Oh  say,  it's  a  sin  to  let  Julie  Delauney  make  a  fool  of 
a  sensible  old  fellow  like  that." 

The  visiting  young  lady  was  also  enjoying  herself,  be- 
cause she  thought  she  was  making  herself  very  agreeable 
to  the  man  Julie  had  informed  her  was  the  most  desirable 
parti  of  the  city  and  "no  end  of  a  swell."  If  Peyton  was 
not  having  quite  as  good  a  time  himself,  he  did  not  betray 
it,  either  to  the  visiting  young  lady  or  to  his  hostess,  who 
sometimes  allowed  her  glance  to  stray  in  his  direction. 

Hugh  was  enjoying  himself  immensely.  Just  to  be 
sitting  beside  Margaret  at  the  table  was  pleasure  enough 
for  one  evening,  and  he  was  humbly  grateful  to  his  sister 
for  securing  that  pleasure  for  him,  when  no  doubt  Mr. 
Seton  should  have  been  assigned  to  that  honor.  To  be 
sure  he  was  not  having  Margaret's  undivided  attention — 
she  was  continually  joining  in  the  discussions  across  the 
table,  of  convention  men  and  measures,  in  which  Peyton 
and  Dalton  were  almost  invariably  pitted  against  each 
other. 

Not  that  Hugh  minded,  he  had  always  known  Margaret 
was  "keen  for  politics"  and  admired  it  greatly  in  her;  his 
admiration,  in  fact,  for  the  part  she  was  able  to  take  in  a 


THE  LEADER  83 

political  discussion  was  quite  in  proportion  to  his  modest 
view  of  his  own  abilities  in  that  direction.  Moreover, 
he  was  beginning  to  have  a  very  great  admiration  for 
Dalton;  so  great,  indeed,  that  his  enjoyment  in  listening 
to  him  and  in  watching  the  swift  play  of  expression  on 
his  strong  face  as  he  uttered  his  flashing  sentences,  was 
second  only  to  the  enjoyment  he  would  have  found  in  a 
confidential  tete-a-tete  with  Margaret. 

Margaret  was  happy,  because  it  was  her  nature  to  find  her 
keenest  joy  in  the  joy  of  the  intellect,  and  it  was  not  often 
in  the  dull  routine  of  social  life  that  she  met  with  so  stim- 
ulating a  mind  as  Dalton's.  Dalton  was  happy,  because 
he  sat  opposite  Margaret  and  could  catch  the  swift  and 
sympathetic  response  of  her  glowing  eyes  and  wonderful 
smile,  and  they  were  like  champagne  to  him,  or  rather 
some  nobler  kind  of  inspiration,  so  that  he  grew  more  and 
more  brilliant  until  he  gradually  drew  to  himself  the 
wrapt  attention  of  the  whole  table.  Julie  left  her  ang- 
ling and  Seton  his  nibbling  to  look  and  listen;  the  visiting 
young  lady  ceased  her  tentative  attempts  at  a  flirtation 
with  the  most  eligible  man  in  the  city;  and  even  Peyton's 
cynicism  was  for  a  time  in  thrall  to  his  admiration. 

Of  course,  in  such  a  state  of  affairs,  the  hostess  could 
not  help  but  be  happy  in  the  happiness  of  her  guests,  and 
so  it  was  an  unusually  successful  party  that  sat  out  on  the 
stone  terrace  in  the  soft  air  of  the  summer  evening,  the 
silver  and  crystal  and  fine  china  and  linen,  sparkling 
first  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  then  catching  the  rose 
and  violet  glow  of  the  twilight,  then  gleaming  coldly  in 
the  white  moonlight  that  was  flooding  dinner  table  and 


84  THE  LEADER 

dinner  guests  before  the  party  broke  up. 

Dalton's  thanks  were  due  to  Julie  for  securing  for  him 
the  opportunity  that  he  so  much  desired  of  putting  his 
case  before  Margaret.  He  and  Seton  were  rising  to  with- 
draw; it  was  time,  if  he  was  to  keep  that  nine  o'clock  en- 
gagement. 

"Why  can't  we  all  walk  down  with  them  to  the  car?" 
lisped  Julie,  "It's  such  a  lovely  moonlight  night  for  a 
walk." 

There  were  no  dissenting  voices  to  such  a  proposal  on 
such  a  night,  and  so  the  little  party  of  eight  walked  two 
and  two  down  through  beautiful  Devonshire  Place,  the 
moonlight  weaving  a  lacy  network  about  them  as  they 
walked  under  spreading  lindens  and  maples,  and  every 
man  by  some  cunning  manipulation  of  the  fates  walking 
beside  the  woman  he  most  desired  to  be  beside. 

All  but  poor  Hugh,  who  found  that  •  Peyton  had 
adroitly  relegated  the  visiting  young  lady  to  him  and 
was  himself  walking  beside  Hugh's  sister.  It  was  Dal- 
ton's quickness  in  seizing  his  opportunity  and  appropri- 
ating Margaret  to  himself  that  no  doubt  gave  Peyton  his 
chance. 

John  had  lost  no  time  in  beginning.  He  plunged  at 
once  into  what  he  called  a  hypothetical  case,  first  telling 
Margaret  he  very  much  desired  to  hear  her  view  of  the 
matter.  He  put  both  sides  as  strongly  as  they  had  pre- 
sented themselves  to  him,  and  especially  dwelt  upon 
the  probability  of  the  purpose  being  accomplished  jby  a 
compromise  and  lost  without  it. 

In  his  eagerness  in  stating  the  case  and  Margaret's 


THE  LEADER  85 

eagerness  in  listening,  of  which  he  was  distinctly  aware, 
they  had  unconsciously  quickened  their  pace  and  found 
themselves  some  distance  in  advance  of  the  others,  and  so 
stopped  in  the  shadow  of  the  great  gates  at  the  entrance 
of  the  Place  to  wait  for  them. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  John  had  finished  his  state- 
ment of  his  case,  and  as  they  waited,  he  said: 

"Now  will  you  give  me,  Miss  Le  Beau,  your  opinion  of 
what  this  man's  course  should  be?  Should  he  compro- 
mise and  so  almost  certainly  win  the  power  to  accom- 
plish his  purpose?  Or  should  he  stand  by  his  principles 
and  almost  as  certainly  fail?" 

"Do  you  want  me  to  give  you  my  first  impression, 
without  stopping  to  think  it  over  carefully?" 

"I  believe,"  John  answered  slowly, — "and  I  hope  you 
will  not  think  me  uncomplimentary  in  saying  it — that  I 
would  rather  trust  a  woman's  intuitions  than  her  deliber- 
ate thoughts." 

"Yes,  I  think  you  are  uncomplimentary,"  said  Mar- 
garet, who  rather  prided  herself  on  her  ability  to  think 
clearly,  "but  none  the  less,  I  will  give  you  my  'intuitions.' 
It  seems  to  me  there  is  never  any  question  where  right 
and  wrong  are  concerned.  Right  is  right,  and  wrong  is 
wrong.  If  a  man  believes  he  is  right  in  fighting  the 
trusts — that  here  is  a  great  wrong  to  be  righted  and  he  is 
the  one  to  do  it,  then  no  considerations  of  place  or  power 
or  expediency  should  have  a  feather's  weight  with  him. 
Let  the  heavens  fall,  he  must  still  move  steadfastly  ahead 
on  the  line  of  duty." 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Le  Beau,  I  was  not  mistaken.    A 


86  THE  LEADER 

woman's  intuitions  are  always  right,  no  matter  what  her 
thoughts  may  be." 

John  spoke  with  an  attempt  at  lightness,  but  there 
was  so  much  of  earnest  in  his  feeling  that  it  betrayed  it- 
self to  Margaret's  quick  intelligence.  The  others  were 
coming  up  and  his  car  was  nearing  the  head  of  the  street 
a  little  distance  away,  where  he  must  take  it.  Margaret 
answered  both  the  lightness  and  the  earnest: 

"I  am  going  home  to  think  it  over,  Mr.  Dalton,  and 
the  next  tune  I  see  you,  I  will  tell  you  whether  my 
thoughts  gave  me  any  different  conclusions  from  my  in- 
tuitions." 

Dalton  answered  with  a  smile  that  Margaret  could  not 
so  much  see  as  feel,  since  the  archway  where  they  stood 
was  in  the  shadow.  Then  he  extended  his  hand  and 
added : 

"The  battle  is  on,  Miss  Le  Beau,  will  you  wish  me  suc- 
cess?" 

"With  all  my  heart,"  answered  Margaret,  as  she  felt 
the  strong  grasp  of  his  hand  on  her  slender  one.  There 
was  no  time  for  any  more.  Mr.  Seton  came  up  with  the 
others,  and  hurried  John  off  to  catch  the  car,  since  he 
was  in  danger  of  being  late  for  his  committee  meeting, 
and  good-byes  were  said  in  haste. 

Dalton  and  Seton  had  the  car  to  themselves  in  starting, 
since  this  was  the  end  of  the  line  and  it  seemed  to  be  an 
hour  either  too  early  or  too  late  for  anyone  to  be  going 
east.  John  seized  the  chance  before  other  passengers 
should  enter  the  car. 

"Frank,"  he  said,  "you've  not  asked  me  my  decision." 


THE  LEADER  87 

"I've  been  waiting  for  you  to  tell  me,"  answered 
Frank,  regarding  his  friend  anxiously,  as  if  afraid  to 
hear  what  he  was  yet  most  desirous  of  hearing. 

"Did  you  read  the  papers  this  morning?" 

"About  the  Standard  Oil  Company  in  Kansas,  I  sup- 
pose you  mean?" 

"Yes." 

"Yes." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  it's  all  of  a  piece  with  the  tyranny  and  vindic- 
tiveness  the  Standard  Oil  has  always  shown,  and  for  that 
matter  all  the  trusts;  but  I  don't  see  that  it  has  anything 
to  do  with  your  decision." 

"No,  it  hasn't.  My  decision  was  made  before  I  saw 
the  papers.  I  am  going  to  stick  to  my  plank,  Frank. 
On  that  plank  I'll  sink  or  swim!" 

Frank  did  not  reply,  and  John,  regarding  him  as  anx- 
iously as  he  had  been  regarded  a  moment  before,  saw 
that  Frank's  honest  face  betrayed  the  keenness  of  his 
disappointment.  He  put  his  arm  affectionately  over 
his  friend's  shoulders.  It  was  not  an  infrequent  caress 
with  him;  in  his  friendship  or  Seton  there  was  always 
something  of  the  tenderness  of  the  stronger  for  the 
weaker : 

"Don't  take  it  so  to  heart,  old  fellow,"  he  said.  "After 
all  there's  as  much  chance  that  I  will  swim  as  sink.  Jim 
Burton  is  no  stronger  man  than  I,  and  I  never  was  in 
better  fighting  trim.  But  whatever  the  result,  wouldn't 
you  rather  I  should  'be  right  than  be  President'?" 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  Frank,  but  so  dolefully  that  John 


88  THE  LEADER 

released  his  shoulder  with  a  resounding  clap  and  threw 
back  his  head  and  laughed. 

"One  would  think  you  were  in  for  the  spoils,  Sir 
Knight  of  the  Rueful  Countenance,"  he  said  when  he 
had  sobered  himself,  "and  you  know,  if  I'm  President, 
you  don't  come  in  for  so  much  as  a  bone  to  pick." 

"You  mean,"  said  Frank  reddening  quickly,  "if  you 
should  dare  to  offer  me  so  much  as  a  bone  to  pick  I  would 
throw  it  in  your  face." 

"Forgive  me,  Frank,"  said  John,  grave  enough  now, 
"I  thought  you  knew  it  was  a  joke.  No  one  knows  bet- 
ter than  I  that  you  are  the  most  disinterested  of  parti- 
sans and  the  most  loyal  of  friends." 

There  was  nothing  more  said  for  a  minute;  then  Frank 
spoke  hesitatingly: 

"Did — did — Miss  Le  Beau -have  anything  to  do  with 
your  decision?" 

"Now  I  think  you  will  have  to  beg  my  pardon,  Frank," 
said  John  sternly,  "or  Miss  Le  Beau's  through  me." 

Frank  reddened  again. 

"I  am  an  ass,  John;  but  you'll  have  to  forgive  rne,  old 
man.  I'm  terribly  cut  up,  and  'most  as  much  worried 
about  her  as  about  the  other  matter.  She's  a  woman 
would  bewitch  any  man — I  could  see  that." 

Then  John  laughed  again. 

"And  how  about  Miss  Delauney?  If  my  eyes  did  not 
deceive  me,  you  were  very  well  pleased  with  her  atten- 
tions." 

"Oh,  she's  a  nice  child,"  said  Frank  loftily.  "And  by 
the  way,"  he  added,  "she  says  there's  an  article  in  one  of 


THE  LEADER  89 

the  magazines  about  you  that's  fine,  and  she's  going  to 
bring  it  to  me  to  read  to-morrow." 

"So  you've  made  an  appointment  to  meet  her  to- 
morrow," said  John  teasingly.  "Matters  have  pro- 
gressed further  than  I  supposed." 

"Well — ah,"  said  Frank,  to  John's  amazement  blush- 
ing and  stammering  and  taking  him  seriously,  "you  see 
she  has  a  ticket  for  the  Le  Beau's  box,  and  she  asked  me 
to  call  on  her  in  the  box  to-morrow.  Of  course  I  couldn't 
be  so  rude  as  to  refuse,"  and  Frank  glanced  at  John  with 
an  inexpressibly  sheepish  air  of  apology. 

"Oh  Frank,  Frank, ' '  said  John,  shaking  his  head  sad- 
ly, "I  never  thought  you  would  be  falling  in  love  at  your 
age,  and  at  such  a  crisis  as  this!" 

Then  both  men  laughed  like  the  two  big  boys  they 
were,  and  they  were  still  laughing  when  the  car  stopped 
and  four  or  five  men  from  one  of  the  up-town  hotels,  also 
on  their  way  down  to  committee  meetings,  got  aboard, 
and  at  sight  of  Seton  and  Dalton  joined  them  at  once 
with  boisterous  greetings;  and  the  rest  of  the  down- town 
trip  was  as  hilarious  as  such  an  assemblage  of  men  on  the 
eve  of  a  convention  is  apt  to  be. 


CHAPTER  VII. 
'TIA  ELISA. 

After  all,  Margaret  did  not  attend  the  first  day  of  the 
convention,  though  she  had  said  many  times,  nothing 
could  induce  her  to  lose  an  hour  of  it  from  opening  to 
close. 

She  was  called  to  the  telephone  before  breakfast  to 
talk  to  'Tia  Elisa  over  the  long  distance  connection. 
There  had  always  been  a  'Tia  Elisa  in  the  family  since 
the  days  of  the  Spanish  domination,  from  which  days  the 
pretty  Spanish  appellation  had  descended;  and  the  Tia 
Elisa  had  always  been  a  household  angel,  a  dear  maiden 
aunt,  loving  and  spoiling  and  blessing  the  children  of  the 
household.  The  present  Tia  Elisa  had  been  a  mother  to 
Peyton  and  Margaret;  Margaret,  indeed,  never  having 
known  any  other. 

It  was  the  family  custom  to  leave  the  town  house  in 
May  and  move  out  to  Beauvoir,  the  old  family  house  at 
Kentwick.  This  year  Margaret,  and  Peyton  too,  though 
he  liked  to  pretend  it  was  all  Margaret's  doings,  had 
elected  to  stay  in  town  through  May  and  June  and  part 
of  July,  for  the  Fair  and  the  convention. 

But  Tia  Elisa  could  not  thus  easily  derange  the  habits 
of  a  lifetime;  and  on  the  first  of  May,  the  day  that  for 
sixty  years  had  not  failed,  rain  or  shine,  week-day  or 
Sabbath-day,  to  see  her  at  Beauvoir,  saw  her  once  more 
duly  installed  there,  leaving  Margaret  and  Peyton  to 


THE  LEADER  91 

console  each  other  in  the  house  in  Devonshire  Place. 
Her  telephone  message  was  to  say  that  she  had  not  seen 
Margaret  since  Sunday,  and  was  pining  for  a  sight  of  her 
sweet  face,  as  she  put  it  in  her  motherly  fashion;  and 
confessed  also  to  a  headache  the  day  before,  from  which 
she  was  just  recovering. 

Margaret  might  have  pleaded  her  desire  to  attend  the 
convention  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  headache;  but  Tia 
Elisa's  headaches  were  events  in  the  family,  coming 
rarely,  but  leaving  her  weak  and  ill  for  a  day  or  two. 
Margaret  reproached  herself  at  once  with  neglect,  though 
it  was  a  reproach  she  hardly  deserved,  since  it  had  been 
agreed  that  she  and  Peyton  should  spend  Sundays  at 
Beauvoir  with  Tia  Elisa,  but  that  during  the  week  they 
would  run  out  at  any  time  that  they  could  steal  from  the 
engagements  the  Fair  entailed;  and  Tia  Elisa  had  herself 
insisted  that  she  would  not  be  at  all  lonely,  even  if  they 
found  themselves  limited  to  their  Sunday  visits,  since 
she  had  her  flowers  and  her  fowls  and  her  country  neigh- 
bors, friends  of  a  lifetime,  and  her  country  poor,  depend- 
ents of  a  lifetime,  to  keep  her  fully  occupied. 

Hearing  of  Tia  Elisa's  headache,  Peyton  was  ready  at 
once  with  his  offers  of  service. 

"I  will  run  you  out  in  the  machine,  Margaret,  and 
when  you're  ready  to  come  back  I'll  go  for  you." 

"Oh,  but  you  don't  suppose,  Peyton,  I  will  have  to 
stay  later  than  this  evening  or  to-morrow  morning?" 

Margaret's  tone  showed  the  dismay  she  felt  at  the  pos- 
sibility of  losing  more  of  the  convention. 

"Oh,  if  Tia  Elisa  should  be  really  sick,  I  suppose  you 


92  THE  LEADER 

wouldn't  desert  her,"  said  Peyton  cheerfully. 

"No,"  said  Margaret  slowly,  then  added  in  a  brighter 
tone,  "But  I'm  not  going  to  contemplate  such  a  dire 
possibility.  It's  bad  enough  to  have  to  lose  the  opening 
day — the  fates  couldn't  be  so  hard  as  to  keep  me  away 
longer." 

"You  poor  child!"  said  Peyton,  with  such  quick  com- 
punction, that  a  dim  suspicion  entered  Margaret's  mind— 
"Perhaps  Tia  Elisa  isn't  sick  enough  to  really  need 
you;  let  me  call  her  up  and  see." 

"Not  for  worlds!"  said  Margaret  quickly.  "Of  course 
she  would  say  she  didn't  need  me.  I'm  surprised  at  you 
for  thinking  of  such  a  thing,  Peyton." 

"All  right,  then,"  returned  Peyton,  with  the  air  of  one 
dismissing  all  sense  of  responsibility.  "We'll  start  as 
soon  as  breakfast's  over." 

The  dim  suspicion  continued  to  haunt  Margaret  at 
intervals  all  through  the  swift  ride  in  the  fresh  morning 
air,  and  returned  with  strength  when  she  found  Tia 
Elisa  waiting  for  them  on  the  cool  piazza,  looking  not 
half  as  ill  as  she  had  expected  to  see  her,  and  looking  in- 
stead a  trifle  embarrassed  as  she  met  Peyton's  glance — 
an  embarrassment  which  she  hastened  to  cover  by  an 
unusual  effusiveness  of  manner  in  her  greeting. 

Peyton  stayed  no  longer  than  was  necessary  for  dutiful 
inquiries  as  to  Tia  Elisa's  health,  and  then  hurried  off  to 
keep  a  business  engagement  in  the  city.  The  suspicion 
had  now  become  almost  a  certainty  to  Margaret,  as  the 
color  in  Tia  Elisa's  face  was  far  from  her  wonted  pallor 
after  a  headache,  and  seemed  to  grow  rosier  at  finding 


THE  LEADER  93 

herself  alone  with  Margaret,  while  the  nervousness  did 
not  diminish. 

"Come  down  into  the  garden  and  see  the  flowers,  Meg 
dear,  before  it  gets  any  hotter.  Not  that  there  is  much 
to  see;  the  roses  are  gone,  you  know,"  and  Tia  Elisa  rose 
nervously  from  her  chair  and  turned  to  lead  the  way. 

But  Margaret  was  bent  on  mischief. 

"Oh,  no,  Tia  dear,"  she  exclaimed  solicitously,  "you 
know  after  one  of  your  headaches  you  must  keep  per- 
fectly still,"  and  with  tender  violence  she  forced  Tia 
Elisa  back  into  her  chair.  "Now  I'll  bring  you  a  fan 
and  a  book,  and  I'll  read  to  you  and  fan  you,  and  you 
shall  fold  your  hands  and  keep  absolutely  quiet." 

"Oh,  Margaret!  I'm  not  so  ill  as  all  that!  It  was  not 
one  of  my  bad  headaches,  you  know,  only  a  little  one, 
and  I'm  feeling  quite  well  to-day." 

Tia  Elisa  spoke  irritably,  and  for  some  reason  she 
avoided  meeting  Margaret's  eyes. 

Margaret  answered  her  with  assumed  playfulness, 
determined  on  still  further  punishment  for  the  trick  she 
was  now  sure  had  been  played  upon  her. 

"Oh,  I  know  my  dear  old  Tia  too  well  to  be  imposed 
upon  in  that  way.  You  are  trying  to  make  the  best  of 
it  for  my  sake.  You  are  afraid  I  will  be  dull  because  I 
had  to  miss  the  opening  of  the  convention.  Just  as  if  I 
wouldn't  miss  a  thousand  conventions  gladly  for  my 
dearest  Tia,  when  she  has  one  of  her  bad  headaches." 

Tia  Elisa  sat  suddenly  erect,  her  eyes  wide  with  an 
exaggerated  dismay  that  came  near  to  being  horror. 

"Miss  the  Convention!    Why,  Peyton  never  said  a 


94'  THE  LEADER 

word  of  that!"  she  blurted  out,  and  then  suddenly  realiz- 
ing that  she  had  betrayed  Peyton,  her  eye-lids  dropped 
and  her  sweet  old  face  grew  rosy-red. 

But  Margaret  was  relentless. 

"He  only  telephoned,  I  supposed — or  did  he  write?— 
that  he  wanted  you  to  plead  a  headache  or  any  old  ex- 
cuse to  get  me  out  here.  Perhaps  he  mentioned  that  he 
thought  I  was  seeing  too  much  of  some  of  the  members 
of  the  convention?" 

Margaret  spoke  with  elaborate  sweetness,  but  it  did 
not  seem  to  relieve  Tia  Elisa's  distress.  "Yes,"  she  mur- 
mured miserably  in  answer  to  the  last  question,  still  with- 
out lifting  her  eyes. 

There  was  the  clatter  of  hoofs  on  the  red  gravel  of  the 
drive.  Margaret  glanced  swiftly  over  her  shoulder. 
Hugh,  bareheaded,  his  fair  hair  blowing  in  the  wind,  and 
riding  his  tall  hunter,  Selim,  was  just  turning  in  from 
Le  Beau  Way. 

"And  I  suppose,"  said  Margaret  quietly,  turning  again 
to  her  aunt,  "he  told  you  to  be  sure  to  let  Hugh  know?" 

Tia  Elisa  was  too  wretched  to  do  anything  more  than 
nod  her  head;  and  at  last  Margaret  relented. 

"There,  there,  you  dear  old  auntie,"  patting  her  hand 
as  if  she  were  a  child,  "it's  nasty  of  me  to  tease  you  this 
way,  and  I'll  be  good  now.  I  love  to  be  out  at  dear  old 
Beauvoir  with  you,  and  I  don't  mind  missing  the  con- 
vention a  bit.  It's  only  the  opening,  and  there  won't  be 
much  doing  I  fancy.  I  don't  even  mind  dear  old  Hugh — • 
so  there!  Please  don't  look  so  miserable,  for  I'm  as 
happy  as  possible."  To  emphasize  which  statement  she 


"There  was  the  clatter  of  hoofs  on  the  red  gravel  of  the  drive" 


THE  LEADER  95 

put  her  hand  under  Tia  Elisa's  chin,  compelling  her  to 
look  up  at  her  as  she  sat  on  the  arm  of  her  aunt's  chair. 

Tia  Elisa  could  not  resist  the  smiling  eyes  into  which 
she  looked.  She  smiled  back  at  them  and  drew  Mar- 
garet's head  down  for  a  kiss  and  Margaret,  patting  her 
once  more  affectionately— this  time  on  the  shoulder- 
slipped  from  her  perch  and  turned  in  time  to  greet  Hugh, 
who  was  now  within  hailing  distance. 

"Good  morning,  Tia  Elisa,"  he  called,  "Good  morn- 
ing, Margaret;  would  you  like  to  beat  me  in  a  tennis  set 

this  morning?" 

"Very  much;  nor  would  I  mind  being  beaten,  which  is 
much  more  likely  to  be  the  case.  How  did  you  know  I 

was  here?" 

"Oh,  Tia  Elisa  has  her  instructions  to  keep  me  in- 
formed," with  a  gay  glance  at  the  old  lady,  who  returned 
it  with  a  fond  one,  for  Hugh  was  one  of  her  "soft  spots." 

Out  on  the  tennis  court,  the  ballsflying  backand  forth 
in  swift  volleys;  the  air  soft  and  warm  but  with  nothing 
of  the  stifling  heat  of  the  city;  Tia  Elisa  sitting  in  a  com- 
fortable garden  chair  under  the  shade  of  the  lindens, 
placidly  knitting  and  watching  the  game;  and  Hugh  at 
his  best,  lithe,  strong  and  skillful,  calling  out  Margaret's 
ready  admiration  for  his  athletic  supremacy;  she  began 
to  feel  that  she  had  not  been  deprived  of  so  much  in  miss- 
ing the  opening  of  the  convention,  and  began  therefore 
to  forgive  her  brother. 

They  were  very  evenly  matched  as  players,  which 
made  the  set  a  long  one,  and  as  the  morning  advanced, 
the  shade,  which  in  the  beginning  of  their  game  had 


96  THE  LEADER 

nearly  covered  the  court,  retreated  until  they  were  glad 
to  take  refuge  from  the  scorching  sun  beside  Tia  Elisa 
under  the  lindens;  Margaret  in  a  garden  chair,  Hugh 
stretched  at  his  length  on  the  grass  at  the  feet  of  the  two 
women,  his  head  pillowed  on  his  clasped  hands. 

"Aren't  we  glad  to  have  her  with  us  at  Beauvoir  once 
more,  Tia  Mia?" 

Hugh  was  quite  proud  of  his  own  special  appellation 
for  Tia  Elisa,  and  the  fact  that  he  mixed  his  Spanish  and 
Italian  didn't  trouble  him  in  the  least.  He  looked 
straight  into  her  eyes,  as  he  spoke,  with  a  glance  that 
included  Margaret  in  its  smiling  affection.  Tia  Elisa 
beamed  impartially  on  both,  her  soft  blue  eyes  shining, 
as  she  answered: 

"It  won't  be  long  now,  Hugh,  till  we  have  her  with  us 
for  good.  She's  promised  to  come  out  next  Sunday  to 
stay." 

"I  wish  you  two  elderly  people  would  stop  making  a 
spoiled  darling  of  me,"  said  Margaret,  responding  to  their 
looks  rather  than  to  their  words.  "You  make  me  feel 
exactly  sixteen!  I  believe  you  would  never  let  me  grow 
up  if  you  could  help  it." 

To  which  petulant  speech  Hugh  paid  no  attention  at 
all,  he  was  too  full  of  Tia  Elisa's  news,  and  an  idea  that 
had  suddenly  presented  itself  to  him.  So  full,  indeed, 
that  it  brought  him  to  his  feet  with  a  spring. 

"Next  Sunday!  That's  better  than  I  hoped.  Of 
course  the  convention  will  be  over  then.  I  say,  Mar- 
garet, do  you  suppose  Dalton  would  think  it  was  awfully 
fresh  of  me  to  ask  him  out  here  for  a  week  after  the  con- 


THE  LEADER  97 

vention's  over?  He's  sure  to  be  done  up  and  need  a  rest, 
you  know,  and  I  admire  the  man  immensely.  I'd  like 
nothing  better  than  to  have  him  in  the  house  for  a  week." 

"Admire  Mr.  Dalton!  Invite  him  to  your  house! 
What  would  Peyton  say!  I  thought  he  considered  the 
man  hardly  respectable!" 

The  look  of  horror  accompanying  Tia  Elisa's  ejacula- 
tions was  too  much  for  Hugh  and  Margaret,  and  they 
only  succeeded  in  restoring  themselves  to  the  proper 
degree  of  sobriety  by  the  sight  of  the  color  deepening  in 
Tia  Elisa's  rosy  cheeks,  and  the  look  of  offended  dignity 
that  sat  oddly  enough  on  her  amiable  countenance. 
Margaret  hastened  to  reassure  her : 

"Oh,  it's  not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  Tia  Elisa,  and  you 
must  forgive  our  laughing,  for  that's  just  what  he  is,  so 
very  respectable." 

"I'll  bring  him  over  to  see  you,  Tia  Mia,"  said  Hugh, 
"and  if  you  don't  proceed  directly  to  fall  head  over  heels 
in  love  with  him,  I'll  be  greatly  disappointed.  By  the 
way,  Margaret,  he's  a  bachelor,  and  just  about  the  right 
age  for  Tia  Elisa;  perhaps  it  wouldn't  be  quite  safe  to 
bring  him  here  after  all." 

Hugh  spoke  by  way  of  gentle  raillery.  He  liked  to  see 
the  sweet  old  lady  blush,  as  she  never  failed  to  do  at  such 
speeches,  no  matter  how  unworthy  of  notice  she  deemed 
them.  But  he  was  not  at  all  prepared  for  Margaret's 
coloring  also.  He  did  not  understand  it,  and  the  puzzle 
of  it  returned  many  times  to  set  him  pondering. 

Margaret  did  not  understand  it  either,  and  was  so 
much  annoyed  by  it  as  to  color  again  with  annoyance. 


98  THE  LEADER 

There  certainly  was  no  reason  why  Hugh's  suggestion 
that  Mr.  Dalton  and  Tia  Elisa  were  of  congenial  age 
should  displease,  or  annoy  her,  or  affect  her  in  any  way. 
Had  she  not  herself,  upon  her  first  sight  of  him,  regarded 
him  as  of  advanced  middle  age,  almost  an  old  man? 
What  had  changed  him  in  her  estimation?  Hugh's 
light  speech  had  come  to  her  almost  as  a  shock,  and  she 
realized  that  Mr.  Dalton  had  begun  to  seem  to  her  a  very 
much  younger  man  than  he  had  seemed  at  first :  a  man 
not  too  old  to  be  congenial,  in  many  matters  of  feeling 
and  thinking,  to  a  young  woman  of  her  own  age.  With 
the  thought  came  a  fleeting  vision  of  a  leonine  head 
crowned  with  close  dark  curls  and  set  on  strong  square 
shoulders;  a  broad  brow,  and  grey  eyes  glowing  with  the 
fires  of  eternal  youth.  "What  are  youth  or  age  to  such 
a  spirit!"  she  thought  to  herself,  and  found  herself  kin- 
dling with  pride  at  the  thought. 

But  under  the  lindens  the  air  was  soft  and  balmy  as  a 
May  day,  and  the  three  friends  fell  into  quiet  talk.  Over 
the  tennis  court  the  heat  of  the  noon-day  sun  made  itself 
visible  in  a  shimmering  haze;  the  air  was  filled  with  the 
drowsy  hum  of  insect  life — the  strident  burr  of  locusts, 
the  monotonous  drumming  of  woodpeckers  on  distant 
tree  trunks,  the  cheerful  buzz  of  honey-bees  poised 
on  steady  wing  above  luscious  clover  tops,  an  occasional 
sleepy  twitter  of  robin  or  oriole  roused  for  a  moment 
from  a  mid-day  siesta — sounds  that  make  a  midsummer 
day  palpitate  with  the  fullness  of  life,  and  mere  existence 
a  conscious  joy. 

Margaret,  her  head  resting  on  the  tall  back  of  her  chair, 


THE  LEADER  99 

her  hands  idly  clasped  in  her  lap,  her  eyes  looking 
dreamily  off  through  vistas  formed  by  archways  of  foli- 
age to  the  distant  ridge  where  the  white  houses  of  the 
little  village  of  Florrisant  clustered  around  the  spire  of 
its  old  French  church,  was  filled  with  a  languorous  sense 
of  happiness.  To  be  living  at  Beauvoir  in  the  heart  of 
one  of  the  loveliest  valleys  in  the  world,  away  from  the 
turmoil  and  unrest  of  the  city,  was  to  know  such  peace 
and  happiness  as  the  world  seldom  gives:  and  to  have 
always  about  her  people  so  dear  to  her  as  Tia  Elisa  and 
Hugh  and  Peyton,  though  for  the  moment  Peyton  stood 
rather  low  in  her  good  graces — enveloping  her  with  an 
incense-laden  atmosphere  of  adoration,  seemed  to  her 
the  very  crown  of  a  joyous  life. 

Yes,  she  had  consciously  included  Hugh  in  the  people 
dear  to  her — and  why  not?  She  had  known  him  always, 
and  began  now  almost  to  believe  that  she  had  loved  him 
always.  Certain  it  was  that  she  could  hardly  think  of 
life  without  that  devoted  affection  that  had  become  as 
natural  to  her,  and  almost  as  necessary  as  the  air  she 
breathed.  Why  not,  then,  decide  the  matter  at  once? 
Make  one  man  supremely  happy,  and  Tia  Elisa  and  Pey- 
ton almost  as  happy,  and  thoroughly  comfortable  and  at 
rest  about  her? 

At  the  thought  of  how  Peyton  would  congratulate 
himself  on  the  success  of  his  little  scheme,  she  smiled; 
and  smiled  still  more  as  she  depicted  to  herself  Hugh's 
astonishment — which  she  was  sure  would  for  the  moment 
eclipse  his  joy — should  she  at  last  give  no  discouraging 
answer  to  that  question  that  for  ten  years  she  had  grown 


100  THE  LEADER 

to  look  for  as  regularly  as  the  recurring  seasons. 

"A  penny  for  the  meaning  of  your  smile,  Margaret," 
said  Hugh,  losing  no  change  of  that  dreamy  face,  while 
chatting  steadily  with  Tia  Elisa. 

"Did  I  smile?"  said  Margaret,  "It  must  have  been  at 
the  prospect  of  luncheon,  for  here  comes  Clotilde." 

A  neat  mulatto  girl  in  cap  and  apron  came  up  as  Mar- 
garet spoke,  daughter  of  old  Clotilde  of  slavery  days, 
and  she  in  turn  descendant  of  many  generations  of  Clo- 
tildes,  reaching  back  to  the  old  Spanish  and  French  rule. 

"Will  you  have  luncheon  out  here,  Miss  Elisa?"  asked 
Clotilde. 

"Oh,  do,  Tia  Elisa.  I  adore  luncheon  under  the  trees ! 
And  Hugh,  you  may  stay  if  you  like,  mayn't  he  Tia?" 

Such  amiability  on  Margaret's  part  had  been  unusual 
of  late,  and  Hugh  acknowledged  it  with  what  he  was 
pleased  to  call  "profound  and  humble  gratitude,"  while 
Tia  Elisa  beamed  with  pleasure,  hardly  thinking  it  nec- 
essary to  add  her  own  cordial  invitation. 

"It's  like  old  times,  Margaret,"  said  Tia  Elisa,  when 
Clotilde  and  Gaston,  a  fifteen  year  old  negro  boy,  had 
brought  out  a  little  table  completely  set,  and  they  were 
comfortably  seated  around  it.  "Last  summer  you  were 
abroad,  and  the  summer  before  Hugh  was  away,  so  it  has 
been  a  long  time  since  we  have  been  together  this  way  in 
old  Beauvoir." 

"A  long  time!"  Margaret  half  sighed  as  she  spoke. 
"And  how  lovely  it  is!  I  feel  like  a  little  girl  again  to- 
day. Do  you  remember  what  happy  times  we  used  to 
have,  Hugh?  You  were  always  like  a  big  brother  to  me, 


THE  LEADER  101 

and  I  used  to  sometimes  think  I  liked  you  better  than 
Peyton,  for  you  never  teased  me  or  'ordered'  me." 

Hugh's  sigh  was  no  half  one,  but  straight  from  his 
boots : 

"Let's  go  back  to  them  this  summer,  Margaret,  I'll  be 
the  most  docile  of  big  brothers  if  you  insist.  I  never 
thought  of  teasing  you,  but  if  I  had  wanted  to,  I  would 
never  have  dared;  you  were  something  of  a  little  ter- 
magant in  those  days,  and  I  was  dreadfully  afraid  of 
you." 

Margaret  smiled: 

"I'm  afraid  I  did  bully  you  a  bit,  but  it  was  a  great 
temptation — you  were  always  so  meek." 

"Ahem!  just  try  me  again  this  summer.  I've  got  my 
cue  now,  and  you'll  find  me  as  haughty  as  even  you  could 
wish.  Tia  Mia,  what  do  you  think  of  a  girl  who  deliber- 
ately attempts  to  cow  a  man  because  she  knows  she  can." 

The  telephone  bell  was  ringing  and  Margaret  was  sum- 
moned to  answer  it.  She  returned  in  a  few  minutes. 

"It's  Peyton.  He  says  he  is  going  to  bring  Mrs.  Pax- 
ton  out  in  the  auto  to  dinner  this  evening  and  wants  me 
to  ask  Hugh  over,  and  we'll  all  go  in  town  together  by 
moonlight.  Your  sister  invites  you  to  spend  the  night 
at  her  house.  I  accepted  for  you — was  that  right?" 

"I  ought  not  to  have  stayed  to  luncheon!"  said  Hugh 
with  whimsical  dismay.  "Will  you  let  me  come  to  lun- 
cheon and  dinner  on  the  same  day?" 

"If  I  remember  aright  you  used  to  spend  the  day  with 
Peyton  very  often.  If  we  are  going  back  to  the  old  times 
this  summer,  we  may  as  well  begin  at  once." 


102  THE  LEADER 

"Thank  you.  I'll  come  to  dinner  then,  but  I'm  not 
going  to  wear  out  my  welcome  by  spending  the  afternoon 
as  well.  I'll  leave  just  as  soon  as  you  give  me  a  dish  of 
those  delicious  berries.  And,  by  the  way,  where  did 
they  come  from?  Ours  have  been  gone  for  weeks." 

Clotilde,  who  with  Gaston  had  been  bearing  from  the 
kitchen  such  dainty  trifles  as  women  love  for  luncheon, 
either  smoking  hot  or  ice  cold,  as  the  nature  of  the  dish 
demanded,  had  now  as  a  last  course  set  upon  the  little 
table  a  big  bowl  of  fragrant  raspberries,  and  beside  it 
a  generous  pitcher  of  glass  brimming  with  yellow  cream. 
Tia  Elisa  answered  Hugh's  question  with  a  little  glow  of 
pride : 

"They  are  fine,  aren't  they?  Caesar  is  very  proud  of 
the  Beauvoir  berries.  But  these  are  the  last.  I  believe 
he  used  some  secret  process  to  keep  them  for  Margaret — 
she's  so  fond  of  them." 

At  this  moment  Caesar  himself  came  into  the  line  of 
vision  beyond  the  house,  driving  a  great  farm  wagon 
loaded  with  crates  of  garden  vegetables,  and  Margaret 
called  to  him  some  compliment  on  his  fine  berries  that 
pleased  the  old  fellow  immensely. 

"Is  he  taking  that  truck  to  the  station?"  asked  Hugh. 

"Yes,"  said  Tia  Elisa,  "to  go  in  on  the  two  o'clock 
train." 

Hugh  called  to  Caesar  to  wait  a  minute,  and  then  said 
to  Margaret,  "What  do  you  say,  Margaret,  to  our  riding 
down  with  him  and  taking  the  two  o'clock  for  the  Fair? 
We  can  see  the  pictures  and  hear  Guillmant  and  come  out 
with  Peyton  and  Helen  in  the  machine." 


THE  LEADER  103 

"Thank  you,"  answered  Margaret  coolly,  "I  am  spend- 
ing the  day  with  Tia  Elisa  at  Beauvoir.  Nothing  could 
induce  me  to  exchange  these  cool  shades  for  the  hot  Fair, 
to  say  nothing  of  not  being  so  confident  as  you  seem  to 
be  of  the  pleasure  our  uninvited  presence  would  give 
Helen  and  Peyton." 

Hugh  looked  at  her  curiously,  a  long  slow  look  into 
which  there  seemed  to  dawn  some  new  intelligence : 

"Well,"  he  said  at  length,  "I'm  sorry  you  won't  go 
with  me,  but  I  think  I'll  go  anyway.  I'll  come  back  by 
train,  however.  May  I  run  into  the  house  first  and  tele- 
phone for  them  to  send  some  one  after  Selim?" 

"Suppose  you  leave  Selim  here,"  suggested  Margaret, 
"and  then  if  you  get  back  by  the  early  train  we'll  have  a 
little  ride  before  dinner.  I  want  to  crowd  as  much  as 
possible  into  my  one  day  at  Beauvoir,  and  it  has  been  a 
long  time  since  I've  had  a  ride  on  old  Nell." 

Nothing  could  have  pleased  Hugh  more,  and  Tia  Elisa 
and  Margaret  walking  with  him  across  the  lawn  to  the 
avenue  of  lindens  where  Caesar  was  waiting,  he  waved 
his  good-bye  to  them  from  his  high  wagon  seat,  where 
he  had  nimbly  climbed  to  a  perch  beside  the  old  man. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  FARMER'S  ENTHUSIASM. 

In  the  long  afternoon  spent  in  the  cool  living  room 
open  on  three  sides  to  the  breezes,  if  any  were  stirring, 
but  shaded  by  the  piazza  roof  and  the  green  trees  beyond 
from  the  glare  of  the  sun,  Tia  Elisa  did  her  best  to  still 
further  carry  out  Peyton's  instructions.  These  had  been 
conveyed  in  a  closely  written  letter,  for  not  to  a  country 
telephone,  on  a  party  line  with  three  others,  would  Pey- 
ton entrust  any  such  intimate  advice  concerning  his  sister. 

As  Margaret  divined,  he  had  confided  to  Tia  Elisa  that 
he  was  greatly  worried  by  the  fact  that  Margaret  was 
seeing  so  much  of  Dalton;  fearing  that  the  romantic  idea 
of  him  that  she  had  been  cherishing  for  four  years,  might 
ripen  into  a  deeper  interest. 

He  particularly  feared  this,  he  said,  since  the  fellow 
seemed  to  be  greatly  taken  with  Margaret.  Couldn't 
Tia  Elisa  get  her  out  there  on  some  pretext  and  keep  her 
away  from  the  convention  as  long  as  possible?  He  ad- 
vised that  she  invite  Hugh  over,  and,  also,  if  she  found 
an  opportunity,  talk  to  Margaret  quite  seriously  about 
Hugh — what  a  fine  fellow  he  was,  and  how  devoted  to 
her. 

This  letter  had  been  written  on  his  return  from  Mrs. 
Paxton's  high  tea  the  night  before.  He  had  himself 
posted  it  in  time  for  the  midnight  collection,  and  Tia 
Elisa  had  received  it  at  Beauvoir  before  breakfast  that 
morning. 


THE  LEADER  105 

Peyton  had  not  failed  to  observe  with  what  adroitness 
Dalton  had  managed  to  secure  Margaret  for  the  walk 
down  Devonshire  Place  to  the  car  (an  adroitness  by 
which  he  himself  had  profited,  but  of  which  he  none  the 
less  disapproved),  nor,  though  apparently  and  really 
very  much  occupied  with  Mrs.  Paxton,  had  he  failed  to 
note  also,  that  the  conversation  between  his  sister  and 
Dalton  was  not  the  light  talk  in  which  the  others  of  the 
party  were  engaged,  but  of  unusual  seriousness.  This 
was  obvious  from  their  manner,  from  an  occasional  in- 
tense gesture  on  Dalton's  part,  and  from  the  earnestness 
of  the  tones  that  reached  his  ears  at  intervals.  It  was 
time,  he  considered,  to  interfere.  Hence  his  letter  to 
Tia  Elisa. 

That  he  should  so  soon  seem  to  be  undoing  his  own 
plans  by  telephoning  Margaret  that  he  would  take  her 
back  to  the  city  that  evening  in  the  motor  car,  was  due 
partly  to  the  fact  that  he  had  reconsidered,  and  con- 
cluded the  perils  were  not  so  grave  as  he  feared;  but 
principally,  to  an  acute  attack  of  remorse  that  he  should 
be  so  arbitrarily  depriving  his  sister  of  any  part  of  the 
convention  to  which  she  had  been  so  long  looking  for- 
ward. 

It  was  easier  for  him  to  relent,  since,  on  further  thought 
he  concluded  that,  until  the  convention  was  over,  Dalton 
would  be  so  engaged  there  would  be  no  possible  oppor- 
tunity for  Margaret's  meeting  him  socially,  and  by  that 
time  Dalton  would  be  either  so  elated  by  his  victory  in 
winning  the  nomination,  or  crushed  by  his  defeat,  as  to 


106  THE  LEADER 

have  no  thoughts  for  Margaret. 

Peyton,  whose  heart  was  really  very  tender  towards 
his  sister — although  she  often  resented  a  tenderness  that 
showed  itself  sometimes  in  a  disposition  to  unwarrant- 
able interference,  she  considered  it,  in  her  actions — 
called  up  Margaret  as  soon  as  he  had  come  to  this  second 
decision,  so  that  if  she  were  feeling  disappointed  at  losing 
the  opening  of  the  convention,  she  should  be  relieved  of 
any  anxiety  as  to  losing  more  of  it. 

Tia  Elisa  was,  of  course,  ignorant  of  the  change  in 
Peyton's  point  of  view,  and  so  was  doing  her  best  to 
carry  out  his  instructions,  and  to  atone  for  what  she  re- 
garded as  her  betrayal  of  his  confidence.  Rocking  gently 
as  she  knitted,  she  reverted  constantly  in  her  talk,  with 
what  seemed  to  herself  great  adroitness,  to  Hugh  and  his 
virtues.  Margaret  was  in  a  mood  to  listen  kindly,  for, 
at  ease  in  a  long  chair,  reading  an  occasional  sentence 
from  Candida  between  the  intervals  of  Tia  Elisa' s  gentle 
ripple  of  talk,  the  sweet  sounds  and  scents  of  summer 
floating  in  to  her  through  the  open  windows,  life  in  Kent- 
wick,  with  which  Hugh  was  so  intimately  associated, 
seemed  to  her  the  happiest  life  the  world  could  offer. 

By  half  past  four  the  heat,  that  through  the  afternoon 
had  been  too  oppressive  for  any  exercise,  had  begun  sen- 
sibly to  diminish.  A  little  admonitory  breeze,  stealing 
in  through  the  south  windows,  gently  lifted  the  damp 
curls  on  Margaret's  forehead  and  reminded  her  that  the 
time  for  languid  ease  was  over,  and  sent  her  running  up 
stairs  to  don  her  riding-skirt  in  haste,  if  she  would  meet 
Hugh  at  the  train,  as  she  had  proposed  to  herself  to  do, 


THE  LEADER  107 

and  so  save  much  time  for  their  ride. 

Once  on  old  Nell's  back,  where  she  had  not  found  her- 
self for  nearly  two  years,  Selim  following  a  little  in  the 
rear,  ridden  by  Gaston,  she  was  as  full  of  energy  as,  for 
most  of  the  afternoon,  she  had  been  full  of  lassitude. 
Old  Nell  bore  her  fifteen  years  bravely  and  after  the  first 
few  minutes  necessary  in  getting  her  stiffened  joints  into 
free  working  order,  was  as  swift  and  delightful  as  in  her 
younger  days.  She  had  been  famous  for  her  gaits  in  her 
youth,  but  trotting  was  not  one  of  them;  it  was  in  her 
canter  and  in  the  cradle-like  motion  of  her  rack,  that  she 
excelled.  So  as  soon  as  they  had  made  the  steep  turn 
from  the  red  gravel  drive  into  the  hard  road  of  Le  Beau 
Way  and  Margaret  had  laid  the  rein  on  the  side  of  Nell's 
neck,  she  broke  into  a  long  easy  lope  that  gave  Margaret 
the  sensation  of  skimming  smoothly  through  the  air  on 
wings.  As  they  turned  the  first  right  angle  in  Le  Beau 
Way,  they  heard  the  whistle  of  the  train  at  Franklin,  only 
three  miles  off.  A  childish  desire  seized  Margaret  to  beat 
the  train  to  the  station,  and  urging  Nell  to  her  swiftest 
pace  they  were  soon  flying  by  hedge,  and  stone  wall,  and 
overhanging  trees,  at  such  speed  that  the  trumpet 
creeper  hanging  from  all  three  in  scarlet  festoons,  flashed 
by  them  like  long  pennons  of  flame. 

As  they  turned  into  the  short  stretch  of  dark  loam 
leading  to  the  station,  they  slackened  their  pace  a  little, 
of  necessity,  since  their  horses'  feet  sank  deep  into  the 
soft  soil,  and  drawing  rein  at  the  horse-block  under  a 
spreading  oak  in  the  rear  of  the  little  station-house,  Mar- 
garet gave  Nell's  bridle  to  Gaston  to  hold  and  ran  into 


108  THE  LEADER 

the  station-house  for  a  minute's  chat  with  Miss  Molly 
before  the  train  should  arrive. 

Miss  Molly,  as  usual,  was  sitting  enthroned  in  her  low 
rocking-chair  in  one  corner  of  her  neat  little  waiting- 
room,  her  swift  crochet-needle  flashing  in  the  sunlight, 
obedient  apparently  to  no  guidance  but  its  own,  as  Miss 
Molly's  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  down-track  to  Franklin, 
watching  for  the  five  o'clock  train.  She  turned  as  Mar- 
garet darkened  the  doorway. 

"For  the  1-a-n-d-s  sake!"  ejaculated  Miss  Molly,  too 
excited  for  a  moment  to  do  more  than  drop  her  work  in 
her  lap  and  open  her  mouth  as  wide  as  her  eyes.  But  it 
would  be  a  more  startling  apparition  than  Margaret  that 
could  deprive  Miss  Molly  of  the  power  of  speech  for  more 
than  a  moment. 

"W-e-1-1  Honey!  When  did  you  get  back?  I've  been 
lookin'  and  longin'  for  you  all  spring."  And  with  the 
recovery  of  speech,  Miss  Molly  came  hastily  forward  to 
give  Margaret  the  affectionate  kiss,  with  which,  since  her 
babyhood  she  had  greeted  her  return  from  long  absence. 

There  was  no  lack  of  respect  in  the  greeting,  and  there 
was  no  lack  of  affection  in  the  manner  in  which  Margaret 
received  and  returned  it,  for  Miss  Molly — looking  hardly 
older  than  when  the  little  Peggy  had  run  in  from  her 
flower-decked  ponies  to  make  her  anxious  inquiry — was 
loved  and  honored  by  all  the  old  county  families  dwell- 
ing within  the  radius  tributary  to  Kentwick  station. 

"Still  making  table  mats,  Miss  Molly?  Whom  are 
they  for?"  asked  Margaret,  glancing  at  the  swift-flying 
needle  that  had  resumed  its  flashing,  even  while  Miss 


THE  LEADER  109 

Molly  was  still  standing  at  Margaret's  side,  the  greetings 
hardly  over. 

"For  Mrs.  Paxton,"  said  Miss  Molly,  and  then  with 
sudden  alarm — "But  there!  for  g-o-o-d-n-e-s-s  sake! 
mebbe  they're  a  Christmas  present  for  you,  and  I've 
gone  an'  told!" 

"I  hope  so,  they're  so  pretty,  but  I'm  afraid  not. 
However,  if  they  should  prove  to  be,  I'll  never  'peep,'  so 
you  needn't  mind." 

"Ridin'  old  Nell?"  Miss  Molly  asked,  glancing  at  Mar- 
garet's riding  skirt.  "Who've  you  come  to  meet — Mr. 
Peyton?" 

Miss  Molly  was  privileged  to  ask  all  the  questions  she 
liked — questions  which  it  was  universally  recognized 
were  not  so  much  instigated  by  curiosity,  as  by  a  spirit 
of  friendliness. 

"Yes,  old  Nell,  and  I  wish  she  could  live  forever.  I'd 
almost  forgotten  how  lovely  she  was  to  ride.  I  believe 
she  grows  better  with  age." 

Margaret  had  answered  the  first  question  only,  but  if 
she  had  any  idea  of  side-tracking  Miss  Molly  by  her 
eulogy  of  old  Nell,  she  was  disappointed.  Miss  Molly 
was  too  old  a  railroader  to  be  switched  on  to  a  siding 
while  the  main  track  was  still  open. 

"Did  you  say  Mr.  Peyton  was  comin'  on  the  five 
o'clock?  I  thought  he  always  came  out  in  his  automo- 
bile. We  never  catch  a  sight  of  him  down  here  these 
days." 

"He's  coming  out  in  it  this  afternoon,"  said  Margaret, 
brought  to  bay,  and  wondering  why  she  should  hesitate 


110  THE  LEADER 

to  say  for  whom  she  had  come.  Hadn't  she  often  been 
down  to  the  station  to  meet  Hugh  in  the  old  familiar 
days?  There  certainly  was  no  reason  why  she  should 
color,  as  she  felt  herself  doing,  in  answering  Miss  Molly's 
question  more  fully. 

"I've  come  down  to  meet  Mr.  Kent;  we're  going  for  a 
little  ride  before  dinner  and  I  thought  it  might  save  time 
to  meet  him  here." 

The  banality  of  such  an  explanation,  which  sounded 
quite  as  if  she  were  apologizing  to  Miss  Molly,  struck 
Margaret  as  soon  as  she  had  made  it.  But  Miss  Molly 
took  it  quite  as  a  matter  of  course. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  saw  him  go  in  on  the  two  o'clock,"  she  said, 
"an'  I  told  him  I  thought  he  was  takin'  a  hot  afternoon 
for  the  Fair.  He'll  be  that  warm  an'  dusty  when  he  gets 
here,  a  good  long  ride  will  make  him  feel  good." 

It  had  not  struck  Margaret  until  that  minute  that 
Hugh  might  easily  want  to  stop  at  home  and  freshen  up 
a  bit  before  meeting  her  for  their  ride,  and  the  train  com- 
ing up  at  that  moment,  she  watched  rather  anxiously 
whether  there  should  be  more  pleasure  or  embarrassment 
in  his  first  glance  at  her. 

But  he  stepped  from  the  train  as  immaculate  as  always, 
and  she  knew  that  he  had  found  some  place  in  town  to 
do  the  freshening  and  so  save  time  for  their  ride.  Small 
as  the  matter  was,  it  pleased  her  as  an  evidence  of  Hugh's 
clever  management,  almost  more  than  it  pleased  her  as 
an  evidence  of  his  eagerness. 

"He's  the  kind  of  man  I  like,"  she  murmured  to  her- 
self, "he's  so  comfortable!" 


THE  LEADER  111 

There  were  always  half  a  dozen  or  more  men  whom 
Margaret  knew  coming  out  on  the  five  o'clock  train  from 
the  city,  and  often  some  of  the  women  of  their  families 
with  them,  but  Hugh  was  the  first  to  put  foot  on  the 
platform  standing  on  the  lower  step  of  the  car,  with  his 
hand  on  the  rail  ready  to  swing  off  before  the  train  should 
come  to  a  full  stop. 

As  his  glance  fell  on  the  trim  figure  at  the  station-house 
door,  the  folds  of  her  short  blue  riding-skirt  gathered  in 
one  hand,  her  riding  crop  stifly  erect  under  the  other  arm, 
the  dark  blue  of  her  four-in-hand  tie  contrasting  with 
the  crisp  whiteness  of  her  waist  and  harmonizing  with 
the  floating  blue  of  the  veil  on  her  soft  riding  hat,  he 
thought  she  had  all  the  clearness  and  freshness  in  color- 
ing of  a  Delft  porcelain,  and  all  the  dainty  grace  of  one 
from  Sevres. 

His  eyes  flashed  only  pleasure  at  sight  of  her,  and  in  a 
moment  he  was  at  her  side,  thanking  her  for  coming. 
They  could  not  get  away  at  once,  for  Margaret  must  stop 
a  moment  to  speak  to  old  friends  and  acquaintances  who 
would  welcome  her  back  to  Kentwick.  But  they  were 
off  at  last,  and  turned  their  horses'  heads  toward  Frank- 
lin. 

The  way  from  the  little  station  led  over  the  hills  by 
scarcely  more  than  a  trail,  through  a  scattered  negro 
settlement,  and  then  by  a  bridle  path  through  the  woods, 
coming  out  finally  on  the  county  road.  The  cabins  of 
the  negroes  were  some  of  them  comfortable  and  neat, 
some  of  them  squalid  enough,  but  all  of  them  picturesque 
and  swarming  with  chickens  and  children.  It  was  the 


112  THE  LEADER 

hour  when  the  men  were  coming  home  from  work,  and 
either  "washing  up"  on  outside  benches,  or  sitting  at 
ease  with  corn-cob  pipes  on  rude  doorsteps,  inhaling 
with  the  tobacco  smoke  the  appetizing  odors  of  corn- 
bread,  bacon  and  coffee,  coming  through  the  open  doors. 

Everybody  knew  Hugh  and  Margaret,  and  the  men 
looked  up  from  their  washing  or  their  smoking  with  a 
smiling,  "Howdy,  Miss  Peggy!"  "Howdy,  Marse  Hugh!" 
while  the  children  scrambled  over  each  other  in  their  rush 
for  the  pennies  they  knew  were  waiting  for  them  in  Marse 
Hugh's  pocket. 

The  last  cabin  in  the  settlement  was  a  little  larger  than 
the  others,  with  more  of  an  air  of  comfort;  the  cabin  itself 
neatly  whitewashed  as  was  also  the  picket  fence  in  front. 
It  stood  somewhat  apart  from  the  others  on  the  edge  of 
the  woods,  and  French  Jean,  who  lived  there,  had  just 
driven  into  the  yard  with  his  wagon  and  a  very  good 
team  of  farm  horses — he  had  evidently  been  helping  in 
some  of  the  wheat  harvestings  going  on  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  valley.  His  horses  were  un- 
hitched and  he  was  leading  them  away  to  a  rude  barn  be- 
hind the  cabin,  when  hearing  the  sound  of  hoofs,  he 
looked  up.  Seeing  who  it  was,  he  let  his  horses  walk  off 
to  the  barn  by  themselves  and  ran  quickly  down  to  the 
road  waving  an  arm  to  stop  Margaret  and  Hugh. 

"Hi!  Marse  Hugh,  Hi!  I'se  got  track  on  a  possum, 
back  in  the  South  Woods!"  he  shouted  as  he  ran. 

They  stopped  their  horses  to  wait  for  him  to  come  up, 
and  attracted  by  the  shouting,  a  comely  negro  woman, 
in  the  cleanest  of  starched  ginghams  and  brightest  of  tur- 


THE  LEADER  113 

bans,  came  to  the  door,  holding  in  her  hand  the  spatula 
with  which  she  had  been  turning  corn-cakes  on  the  grid- 
dle, and,  clinging  to  her  dress  on  each  side,  two  children, 
whose  molasses-smeared  faces  showed  for  whom  their 
mother  had  been  turning  the  cakes. 

"A  possum!"  breathed  Margaret.  "Oh,  Hugh,  what 
fun  it  would  be  to  go  on  a  possum  hunt  once  more!" 

Hugh  turned  and  looked  at  her,  her  eyes  were  dancing 
with  excitement. 

"Would  you  go  to-night,  Margaret,  if  we  could  per- 
suade Peyton  and  Helen  to  go  too?  It  will  be  nearly 
full  moon,  just  the  time  for  it;  but  you  know  it  may  mean 
riding  nearly  all  night  before  we  tree  him,  and  I'm  afraid 
you  won't  feel  fit  to-morrow,  if  you  want  to  go  to  the 
convention." 

French  Jean  had  come  close  enough  by  this  time  to 
overhear  Hugh's  rather  discouraging  speech,  and  he  in- 
sinuated a  counter  argument: 

"He'm  a  fine  fat  un,  Marse  Hugh,  I  know,  coz  I  mos' 
cotched  sight  of  him.  An'  I'se  got  a  fine  dog!" 

Margaret  gave  her  head  a  little  shake,  expressive  of 
irritation  either  with  herself  or  circumstances : 

"Of  course  it's  not  to  be  thought  of.  Possum  hunts 
can  be  had  any  time,  and  this  may  be  my  only  chance  at 
a  political  convention.  I  wouldn't  miss  another  day  of 
it  for  anything.  And  I  know  we  couldn't  persuade  Pey- 
ton, he  would  think  it  utterly  silly.  He's  forgotten  that 
he  ever  spent  a  moonlight  night  riding  after  possums." 

"I  think  myself  it  would  be  better  to  give  it  up  for  to- 
night," Hugh  agreed,  "but  we'll  go  some  time.  Here, 


114  THE  LEADER 

French  Jean,"  and  he  tossed  him  a  silver  half-dollar, 
"take  that  to  console  you,  and  keep  on  the  lookout  for 
another  one — we'll  be  ready  by  the  next  full  moon." 

They  rode  on,  but  the  clatter  of  their  horses'  hoofs  on 
the  stony  trail  was  not  loud  enough  to  drown  the  rich, 
blatant,  negro  tones  of  French  Jean's  wife : 

"Yoh  fool!  Why  foh  yoh  doan  go  git  that  possum 
yohself!  De  sweet  pertaturs  am  all  ready  to  dig,  an' 
my  mouf  jes'  watrin  foh  possum  gravy  an'  sweet  perta- 
turs." 

French  Jean's  wife  caught  the  ring  of  Margaret's  and 
Hugh's  laugh,  and  she  knew  she  had  been  overheard;  but 
little  she  cared  for  that.  And  very  likely,  the  saucy  toss 
of  her  head  with  which  she  responded  to  it  meant  that 
she  would  have  been  disappointed  if  they  had  not  over- 
heard. 

"French  Jean,"  said  Hugh,  "would  rather  have  had 
the  couple  of  dollars  he  would  have  made  from  the  hunt 
than  the  possum.  He's  a  thrifty  fellow;  but  Caroline 
would  rather  have  the  possum." 

"I  hope  you  don't  lay  that  to  the  eternal  feminine," 
said  Margaret. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it!"  stoutly  repudiated  Hugh,  "It's  much 
more  like  the  eternal  masculine.  I've  always  heard 
money  charged  as  a  woman's  weakness,  and  'victuals' 
a  man's.  Jean  and  Caroline  seem  to  have  changed 
parts." 

They  were  entering  the  woodland  bridle-path,  and 
the  semi-twilight  under  the  green  boughs  and  the  mossy 
path  beneath  their  horses'  feet  was  a  grateful  contrast  to 


THE  LEADER  115 

the  glare  of  the  afternoon  sun  and  the  unshaded  rocky 
trail  through  the  negro  settlement;  and  the  hush  of  the 
forest  after  the  din  of  noisy  negro  voices  was  as  grateful 
as  the  refreshing  shade.  The  only  sounds  were  the  low 
twitter  of  robins  making  ready  for  the  night,  the  indis- 
tinguishable stir  of  insect  life,  the  faint  and  distant 
voices  of  children  at  their  play,  and  the  far-away  cry, 
mellowed  and  musical,  of  a  farm-hand  calling  to  his 
cows. 

Selim  and  Old  Nell,  brought  close  together  by  the  nar- 
rowness of  the  path,  rubbed  noses  affectionately,  as  they 
jogged  along  quietly,  in  equine  sympathy  with  their 
surroundings,  and  the  peace  of  the  hour  and  of  the  quiet 
woods  fell  on  Margaret  and  Hugh  also. 

Hugh  was  telling  her  of  his  afternoon  at  the  Fair;  of  a 
picture  that  had  specially  attracted  him,  and  of  Guil- 
mant's  music. 

"It  took  me  back  to  the  Trinite","  said  Hugh.  "Percy 
Tremaine  and  I  used  to  go  there  regularly  Sunday  after- 
noons at  four.  We  had  a  standing  invitation  to  sit  in 
the  organ  loft  and  watch  the  old  fellow's  hands  and  feet — 
Percy  was  his  pupil,  you  know."  And  then,  with  what 
seemed  to  Margaret  a  very  abrupt  transition: 

"I  like  your  friend  Dalton  immensely,  Margaret." 

"I  can't  quite  claim  that  honor,  much  as  I  might  like 
to  be  regarded  as  his  friend,"  objected  Margaret.  "But 
why1  What's  the  connection  between  Guilmant  and 
Dalton?" 

"Oh,  no  connection  between  them,  but  speaking  of  my 
afternoon  at  the  Fair,  reminded  me  of  a  little  incident 


116  THE  LEADER 

that  struck  me  as  significant.  I'd  started  for  home  and 
was  hurrying  along  to  catch  my  train.  As  I  crossed  the 
Plaza  there  was  a  crack  regiment  executing  some  man- 
oeuvres that  seemed  to  arouse  great  enthusiasm.  I  stop- 
ped a  moment  to  look  at  them  and,  as  it  happened,  beside 
two  old  farmers — from  Pike  County,  I  should  think.  They 
were  quiet  enough  at  first,  but  presently,  at  some  particu- 
larly brilliant  manoeuvre,  their  excitement  got  the  bet- 
ter of  them.  They  took  off  their  hats,  swung  them 
around  their  heads  and  shouted  at  the  top  of  their  lungs. 
But  what  they  shouted  was — "Hurrah  for  Dalton!"  And 
the  special  significance  of  it  to  me  was,  that  without  any 
preconcerted  signal  at  all,  they  shouted  it  together  in  one 
breath,  as  if,  when  any  excitement  stirred  them,  it  must 
find  expression  in  the  one  great  emotion  of  their  souls. 
It's  wonderful  to  stir  people  like  that,  Margaret.  /  be- 
lieve he's  the  coming  man!" 

"Yes,"  said  Margaret  slowly,  "it's  wonderful!" 

And  then  by  some  mental  suggestion  that  she  did  not 
recognize,  but  that  she  might  have  traced  back  had  she 
tried,  she  added: 

"It's  strange,  Hugh,  but  all  day  long  I've  been  feeling 
just  nineteen  years  old.  Do  you  remember  that  summer 
when  there  were  six  of  us  always  together,  riding,  and 
driving,  and  having  possum  hunts,  and  picnics  and  week- 
end parties  at  each  other's  houses?  I  think  it  must  be 
my  departing  youth  tugging  at  my  heart-strings  that 
makes  me  go  back  to  that  summer  so  often  to-day.  I 
believe  I  don't  like  growing  old,  Hugh." 

Margaret  spoke  half  gaily,  half  wistfully.     It  was  the 


THE  LEADER  117 

wistfulness  that  pierced  Hugh's  faithful  heart  like  an 
arrow. 

"Growing  old,  Margaret!"  he  repeated  indignantly. 
"What  nonsense!  You  look  as  young  as  you  looked 
ten  years  ago,  and  you  are  twice  as — "  Hugh  started  to 
say  "beautiful"  but  was  afraid  it  sounded  too  bald — 
"nice"  was  his  rather  lame  conclusion.  For,  if  he  had 
only  known  it,  there  was  never  a  woman  in  the  world 
that  liked  to  be  called  "nice."  "A  nice  girl,"  a  "nice 
woman,"  is  to  be  relegated  to  the  ranks  of  the  good  but 
unattractive.  Margaret,  who  had  been  used  to  such 
homage  to  her  beauty  and  charm  as  amounted  sometimes 
almost  to  adulation,  was  inclined  to  resent  the  word,  but 
thought  better  of  it,  remembering  that  it  was  Hugh  who 
had  used  it,  and  it  must,  therefore,  to  his  mind,  convey 
the  highest  praise.  Instead  she  said  nothing,  and  Hugh 
went  on: 

"What  an  old  fellow  you  must  think  me!  If  your 
youth  is  departing,  mine  has  gone  long  ago.  I  will  soon 
be  thirty-seven;  does  that  seem  dreadfully  old  to  you?" 

Margaret  did  not  answer  him  directly. 

"If  I  could  always  be  riding  through  cool  and  dusky 
woods  on  dear  Old  Nell,  I  suppose  I  would  always  feel 
young,"  and  she  dismissed  the  subject  with  a  smile  and  a 
sigh. 

She  did  not  say — "with  you  by  my  side,"  but  somehow 
Hugh  almost  thought  that  was  what  her  smile  and  sigh 
meant,  and  his  pulses  quickened  as  hope  began  to  stir 
her  wings. 

From  the  time  they  had  left  the  station  they  had  been 


118  THE  LEADER 

gradually  climbing  a  high  and  rocky  ridge,  but  for  some 
minutes  they  had  been  coming  down  the  steep  and  wind- 
ing descent  on  its  other  side.  Now,  almost  at  its  foot, 
they  had  come  upon  a  little  "branch,"  the  water  in  it 
very  shallow  at  this  time  of  the  year,  and  half  clogged  by 
the  leaves  that  the  summer  heat  and  summer  storms  had 
brought  down  thus  early  from  sycamores  and  cotton- 
woods.  Nell  would  not  willingly  let  such  a  chance  to 
cool  her  hot  muzzle  pass  unimproved,  and  Margaret 
would  not  lightly  deny  her  the  luxury. 

As  they  stopped  for  a  minute,  the  two  horses  swashing 
their  noses  delicately,  and  playfully  nipping  at  each 
other,  Hugh  took  his  courage  in  his  hand. 

"Margaret,"  he  said,  "that  was  a  summer  I  can  never 
forget.  Shall  we  go  back  to  it  again  this  summer?  And 
may  I  ask  you  again  the  question  I  asked  you  then  for 
the  first  time?  And  will  you  answer  it  differently?" 

Long  custom  could  not  harden  Hugh  sufficiently  to 
keep  his  heart  from  tumultuous  throbbing  and  his  voice 
from  trembling.  Resolutely,  every  year  through  the 
ten,  he  had  returned  to  the  attack,  never  with  any  hope, 
but  with  a  determination  that  would  not  allow  him  to 
despair  as  long  as  Margaret  remained  unmarried.  And 
regularly  through  the  ten  years  had  Margaret  treated  his 
suit  as  though  it  could  not  possibly  be  serious — which 
made  it  easier  for  him,  perhaps,  since  he  knew  it  was  her 
way  of  being  kind,  and  that  she  knew  only  too  well  how 
serious  it  always  was. 

But  this  time,  to  his  astonishment,  there  was  no  laugh- 
ing scorn,  and  as  Margaret  had  foreseen,  his  surprise  al- 


THE  LEADER  119 

most  eclipsed  the  joy  of  returning  hope.  She  did  not 
answer  him  for  a  minute,  and  then  she  lifted  dim  eyes  to 
his. 

"Dear  Hugh,"  she  said  softly,  "just  as  far  as  we  can, 
we'll  go  back  to  that  dear  old  summer;  but  do  not  ask 
me  till  the  summer  is  over,  and  then — perhaps — my 
answer  will  be  different." 

The  last  words  were  almost  a  whisper,  and  Hugh  could 
not  answer  them  at  all.  He  was  shaken  like  a  reed,  now 
that  the  hope  BO  long  deferred  seemed  just  within  his 
grasp. 

"Come,"  said  Margaret,  lifting  Nell's  nose  from  the 
water,  "you  and  Selim  have  played  long  enough." 

For  the  few  rods  that  were  left  of  the  winding  wood- 
land path,  Nell  picked  her  way  slowly  down,  one  ear 
cocked  back  to  listen  for  Selim  and  wondering  why  he 
did  not  follow.  As  they  turned  into  the  country  road, 
Margaret  looked  back  at  Hugh,  still  motionless  by  the 
branch. 

"It's  too  late  to  go  to  Franklin,"  she  called.  "Peyton 
and  Helen  must  have  arrived  by  this  time.  I'll  beat  you 
home." 

At  her  word  and  a  touch  from  her  crop,  Nell  was  off 
like  an  arrow,  with  Selim  in  hot  pursuit.  Now  that  she 
felt  the  die  was  so  nearly  cast,  Margaret  was  seized  with 
a  wild  gaiety,  and  Hugh,  watching  the  trim  blue  and 
white  figure  on  Nell's  back,  flying  along  the  road  just 
ahead  of  him,  was  filled  with  a  strong  excitement  that 
showed  itself  in  no  excessive  gaiety,  but  only  in  the  deep 
and  steady  glow  of  his  dark  blue  eyes. 


120  THE  LEADER 

Selim  was  soon  abreast  of  Nell,  and  neck  and  neck 
they  thundered  along  the  hard  macadam  road;  past 
negro  cabins  and  stately  country  houses,  past  close- 
clipped  hedges,  enclosing  well-kept  lawns,  and  the  white- 
washed paddock  fences  of  a  great  stock-farm.  Across 
the  tracks  of  a  suburban  electric  road  they  dashed  reck- 
lessly, like  two  heedless  children,  without  looking  to  see 
whether  the  murderous  car  was  near;  and  then  turned 
from  the  county  road  into  a  deep  sunken  lane  skirting 
the  golf  links  of  the  Kentwick  Club,  where  the  soft  dirt 
road  was  pleasant  to  their  horses'  feet,  and  the  green 
of  overhanging  hedges  was  pleasant  to  look  up  into. 

The  lane  brought  them  out  into  the  many-angled  Le 
Beau  Way  at  the  rear  of  Beauvoir,  and  through  an  open 
gate  they  turned  into  a  cornfield,  along  whose  fence  a 
road  had  been  made  for  an  easy  access  and  to  cut  off  the 
three  long  turns  of  Le  Beau  Way  that  enclosed  the  broad 
Beauvoir  acres.  Here,  just  ahead  of  them,  they  saw  the 
motor-car;  and  Peyton,  looking  back  at  the  thunder  of 
hoofs  and  seeing  the  pace  at  which  they  were  coming, 
turned  on  his  power  and  joined  the  race. 

Past  the  farm  house  they  swept,  with  the  farmer's 
wife  and  her  children  standing  agape;  past  the  vineyards 
and  the  orchards,  turning  at  the  great  barns,  where  the 
men  putting  up  the  farm  horses  for  the  night  stopped  a 
moment  to  stare  as  they  flashed  by;  past  the  gardens 
and  ice-house  and  dairy;  and  then  into  the  wide  circle 
of  the  lawns  at  the  rear  of  the  house. 

Tia  Elisa,  waiting  for  them  on  the  piazza  with  her 
knitting,  came  around  the  corner  of  the  house  at  the 


THE  LEADER  121 

noise  of  their  arrival,  and  Gaston  and  another  negro  boy 
came  running  to  take  the  horses.  There  was  a  medley  of 
merry  greetings  and  a  laughing  argument  as  to  the 
respective  merits  of  automobiles  and  horses,  and  then 
Peyton  called  up  to  Tia  Elisa  where  she  stood  leaning 
over  the  railing  of  the  side  piazza  and  smiling  down  on 
them  a  general  welcome: 

"How  are  you  feeling  now,  Tia  Elisa?"  He  was  keep- 
ing up  his  little  ruse  for  Margaret's  benefit. 

"Very  well,  thank  you,"  she  answered  with  a  conscious 
blush,  and  dropping  her  eyes  to  her  knitting. 

"Has  Tia  Elisa  been  sick?"  asked  Mrs.  Paxton,  soft 
sympathy  in  her  tones. 

Margaret  had  run  up  on  to  the  piazza  and  was  hurry- 
ing into  the  house  to  dress  for  dinner.  She  turned  back 
at  Helen's  question. 

"I  don't  think  she  has  ever  seemed  better  in  her  life 
than  she  has  seemed  to-day,  Helen."  She  turned  a 
smiling  glance  of  comprehension  on  her  brother  as  she 
added : 

"But  I  forgive  you,  Peyton!" 

And  Peyton,  as  she  turned  again  and  ran  laughing 
away,  had  the  grace  to  blush  as  genuinely,  if  not  as  rosily, 
as  Tia  Elisa. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
"GIVE  us  DALTON!" 

When,  at  one  o'clock  the  next  day,  Margaret  found 
herself  seated  in  a  box  in  the  vast  convention  hall,  just 
back  of  the  delegate's  horseshoe,  the  tiers  of  seats  re- 
served for  visitors  already  densely  packed,  the  light  sum- 
mer dresses  of  the  women  almost  equaling  the  dark  coats 
of  the  men,  she  found  also  that  she  was  trembling  with 
suppressed  excitement. 

Peyton  and  Helen  were  in  the  box,  and  Julie  Delauney, 
and  at  Margaret's  side  was  Hugh,  making  a  brave  effort 
to  seem  sufficiently  indifferent  in  manner.  If  it  had  not 
been  for  Hugh's  too  ostentatious  indifference,  which  un- 
consciously irritated  her,  she  might  have  thought  that 
day  at  Beauvoir  a  dream,  so  dim  and  hazy  did  all  its  ex- 
periences seem  in  the  intense  interest  she  was  now  feeling 
in  the  great  political  drama  going  on  about  her.  Nor, 
thinking  of  it  as  a  dream,  would  she  have  been  quite  able 
to  determine  whether  to  call  it  a  pleasant  one  or  a  troub- 
led one.  Certain  it  is,  that  somewhere,  deep  in  her  sub- 
consciousness,  was  a  vague  feeling  of  discontent;  as  if 
she  were  a  tethered  bird  who  might  have  no  desire  to  fly, 
but  who  knew  that  when  the  desire  should  come  there 
would  be  that  ribbon — long,  perhaps,  and  silken — but 
which  would  yet  relentlessly  set  a  limit  to  her  flight. 

Hugh  had  been  all  that  she  could  have  desired  on  the 
moonlight  ride  to  town  the  evening  before.  He  had 


THE  LEADER  123 

borne  his  part  in  the  talk  and  laughter  of  the  others  with 
his  usual  good  nature  and  open  friendliness,  only  occa- 
sionally lapsing  into  short  reveries  that  Margaret  alone 
divined  the  cause  for.  He  had  said  but  one  word  refer- 
ring in  any  way  to  the  momentous  episode  of  the  after- 
noon, and  that  had  been — taking  advantage  of  a  tem- 
porary absorption  on  the  part  of  Helen  and  Peyton  in 
each  other — bending  toward  Margaret,  and  speaking  in 
a  tone  so  low  as  to  reach  only  her : 

"If  we  go  back  to  that  summer,  I  shall  call  you  Peggy; 
I've  never  grown  used  to  Margaret." 

And  Margaret  had  answered  petulantly : 

"Not  at  all!    I  don't  like  Peggy." 

She  had  felt  instantly  sorry  for  the  hurt  look  in  Hugh's 
honest  blue  eyes,  but  she  would  not  retract,  though  she 
tried  to  make  amends  by  being  kinder  and  gentler  the 
rest  of  the  ride,  than  had  always  been  her  wont  withHugh 

She  was  still  trying  to  be  "kind  and  gentle"  with  him — 
and  it  had  occurred  to  her  more  than  once  to  wonder  why 
it  should  require  an  effort — while  they  were  sitting  to- 
gether in  the  convention  box  waiting  for  the  entrance 
of  the  delegates,  and  amusing  themselves  by  comment- 
ing on  many  odd  types  in  the  audience,  or  exchanging 
greetings  with  friends  and  acquaintances  who  passed 
their  box  and  sometimes  stopped  for  a  word  or  two. 

Peyton,  making  himself  agreeable  to  Helen  and  Julie 
in  his  usual  impartial  manner,  let  his  eyes  rest  occasion- 
ally on  his  sister  with  a  look  of  mingled  tenderness  and 
approbation,  and  it  was  a  little  harder  for  Margaret  to 
stand  that  look  than  even  to  bear  with  Hugh's  only  half- 


124  THE  LEADER 

veiled  adoration. 

The  look  referred  to  a  conversation  of  the  morning.  It 
had  seemed  to  Margaret,  all  through  the  breakfast  hour, 
that  there  was  some  constraint  in  Peyton's  manner.  She 
thought  she  understood  it  and  was  sorry  for  it,  and  did  all 
in  her  power  to  remove  it.  For  herself,  her  conscience 
was  clear,  and  she  felt  perfectly  at  ease  with  Peyton  and 
all  the  world.  But  not  until  the  maid  had  removed  the 
coffee — a  signal  that  she  would  not  return  to  the  dining- 
room  while  they  were  at  the  table — did  Peyton  lay  down 
his  paper,  and  with  an  evident  effort,  broach  the  subject 
that  was  in  both  their  thoughts. 

"Margaret,  what  did  you  think  of  me?  Were  you 
furious?" 

"Very,  for  a  while."  Margaret  smiled  a  little.  "Then 
I  remembered  that  it  was  only  your  over  anxiety  for  me, 
and  that  I  must  make  great  allowance  for  a  crotchety 
old  bachelor." 

Peyton  only  faintly  returned  the  smile : 

"How  did  you  discover  me?  Tia  Elisa  certainly  said 
she  had  a  headache." 

"I  suspected  you,  and  I  trapped  her  into  a  betrayal. 
She  was  seized  with  such  remorse  when  she  discovered  I 
had  missed  the  convention,  that  she  gave  you  away  un- 
wittingly. Then,  of  course,  she  was  still  more  remorse- 
ful. But  I  was  practically  sure  of  it  before.  Don't  you 
think — Peyton — it  was  a  little — unnecessary?" 

"I've  no  doubt  it  was  entirely  so,"  said  Peyton  grave- 
ly, "but  it  is  as  you  say,  Margaret,  I  am  over  anxious  and 
I  am  crotchety.  My  little  sister  is  the  dearest  thing  in 


THE  LEADER  125 

life  to  me,  and  I  could  not  bear  to  think  of  her  getting 
interested  in  the  wrong  direction." 

Then  Peyton  hesitated  still  more — "Do  you  know, 
Margaret,  I  have  come  to  think — just  lat°ly,  almost 
within  the  last  few  days — that  Hugh  is  your  best  chance 
for  happiness.  He's  not  as  brilliant  as  many  of  the  men 
you  have  known,  and  I  suppose  from  having  known  him 
always,  and  because  we  played  together  as  boys,  I  have 
naturally  underestimated  him.  All  those  proverbs  about 
'a  prophet  not  without  honor/  and  'familiarity  breeds 
contempt/  are  true  as  gospel." 

"One  of  them  being  gospel,"  interjected  Margaret  de- 
murely. 

"No !  Is  it  really?  Which  one?"  asked  Peyton,  naively 
surprised. 

But  Margaret  was  too  deeply  concerned  in  what  Pey- 
ton had  been  saying  to  allow  him  to  be  diverted  from  his 
theme.  Much  as  she  might  shrink  from  such  an  intimate 
discussion  of  her  affairs,  she  had  been  too  troubled  about 
them  herself  not  to  be  glad  now  of  her  brother's  counsel. 

"Oh,  never  mind,"  she  answered  him,  "the  important 
matter  is,  that  you  should  think  I'm  in  danger  of  missing 
the  best  life  has  to  offer,  and  that  you  feel  so  deeply  about 
it  as  to  take  rather  extraordinary  measures.  Is  it,  Pey- 
ton, that  I  am  growing  old  and  unattractive,  and  to 
speak  vulgarly — that  you  think  I  am  missing  my  best 
'chances'  and  will  soon  be  where  there  will  be  no  more 
to  miss?  Don't  you  know  how  we  have  both  always 
said  that  there  must  be  one  right  one,  and  when  the  right 
one  comes  we  would  be  sure  to  know?  And  have  you 


126  THE  LEADER 

forgotten,  Peyton,  or  have  you  changed  your  mind?" 
Margaret  spoke  more  slowly,  hesitating  a  little,  "If  the 
right  one  never  came,  you  and  I  were  to  live  together 
always,  and  to  make  life  as  rich  and  full  for  ourselves  and 
for  each  other  as  if  he  had  come." 

Peyton  looked  across  at  her  as  she  spoke,  her  arms 
resting  on  the  table,  her  hands  lightly  clasped  as  she 
leaned  forward  a  little,  looking  up  at  him  earnestly. 

"Would  that  satisfy  you,  Margaret?  Wouldn't  life  be 
rather  dull  with  an  old  fellow  like  me?"  he  asked  wist- 
fully. 

"I  can't  think  of  life  being  dull  as  long  as  there  are 
pictures,  and  books,  and  music,  and  flowers,  and  trees, 
and  birds,  and  hills,  and  rivers;  to  say  nothing  of  friends 
and  neighbors  and — you!  Don't  be  worried  about  me, 
Peyton — I  think  I  would  make  a  very  happy  and  con- 
tented old  maid." 

Margaret  spoke  gaily  at  the  last.  She  was  afraid  dear 
old  Peyton  was  too  anxious  about  her — she  would  divert 
him  from  his  seriousness.  But  Peyton  was  not  to  be 
diverted. 

"I'm  not  worrying  about  your  being  an  old  maid,  Mar- 
garet," he  said  as  gravely  as  before,  "I  am  worrying  lest 
you  find  yourself  interested  in  the  wrong  man.  It  was 
that  fear  that  made  me  see  Hugh  in  a  new  light." 

Margaret  was  annoyed,  and  showed  it  by  a  heightened 
color. 

"I  suppose  I  know  to  whom  you  are  referring,  but  it 
seems  to  me  unwarrantable,  and,  if  you  will  excuse  the 
word — almost  ill-bred — to  be  fearing  any  such  result  of 


THE  LEADER  127 

a  bare  acquaintanceship.  There  are  reasons,  of  course, 
why  I  should  find  him  interesting,  as  a  man  who  has 
figured  so  largely  in  national  affairs  and  drawn  the  atten- 
tion of  the  whole  country  upon  himself,  but  there  is  no 
reason  at  all  why  he  should  feel  any  particular  interest 
in  me,  and  in  suggesting  it,  you  make  me  feel  like  a  rustic 
little  village  flirt  who  sees  a  possible  'beau'  in  every  man 
she  meets." 

Margaret  spoke  with  asperity,  and  Peyton  shrugged 
his  shoulders  and  smiled  whimsically,  with  something  of 
the  air  of  a  whipped  school-boy. 

"Oh,  I  suppose  I  am  like  a  fond  mamma,  who  thinks 
every  man  who  speaks  to  her  beautiful  daughter  is  dead 
in  love  with  her.  But  you  know,  Margaret,  I  have  some 
ground  for  fear,  since  experience  has  taught  me  that  no 
man  is  safe  who  comes  within  the  circle  of  your  attrac- 
tion." 

Peyton's  eyes  twinkled  as  he  said  it;  he  knew  how  little 
Margaret  liked  such  speeches. 

"Nonsense!"  was  the  only  answer  she  deigned  him,  and 
Peyton  went  on  more  seriously : 

"I'm  going  to  talk  to  you,  Margaret,  as  if  I  were  indeed 
a  fond  mamma.  I  know  of  no  one  who  has  a  better 
right  to  counsel  you,  and  no  subject  on  which  it  is  more 
fitting  that  we  should  take  counsel  together." 

And  then  very  gravely,  very  earnestly,  very  tenderly, 
Peyton  set  forth  at  length  the  reasons  why  it  would  be 
most  fitting  that  she  should  marry  Hugh:  his  life-long 
devotion  to  her,  the  simple  nobility  of  his  character,  the 
charm  of  his  manner.  And  he  did  not  hesitate  even  to 


128  THE  LEADER 

place  before  her  the  more  material  advantages  of  such  a 
marriage :  Hugh's  family  and  their  own  had  been  closely 
associated  for  a  hundred  years,  and  his  wealth  and  social 
position  were  such  as  Margaret  had  a  right  to  demand 
in  a  husband.  That  the  Kentwick  acres  touched  on  one 
side  the  Beauvoir  acres  was  also  a  pleasant  item  and 
worthy  of  consideration. 

As  Peyton  began  to  talk,  Margaret  drew  a  daisy  from 
the  Delft  bowl  that  decorated  the  center  of  the  table — 
brilliant  gold  and  white  field  daisies,  a  great  bunch  of 
which  they  had  brought  from  Beauvoir  the  night  before. 
Some  of  the  long  stems  stood  crisply  upright  among  their 
delicate  green  foliage,  and  some  of  them  drooped  grace- 
fully over  the  sides  of  the  bowl  in  such  wide  arches  that, 
reaching  beyond  the  lace  of  the  center-piece  on  which 
the  bowl  stood,  their  petals  were  reflected  in  the  polished 
mahogany  as  in  a  woodland  pool.  The  careless  grace  of 
the  arrangement  affected  Margaret  like  a  bit  of  the 
country,  and  transported  her  in  spirit  to  the  Beauvoir 
meadows.  As  Peyton  talked,  she  listened  with  down- 
cast eyes  and  steadily  deepening  color,  pulling  off  one  by 
one  the  white  petals.  Was  she  saying  to  herself  as  she 
plucked — "Un  peu,  beaucoup,  passionement,  pas  de 
tout" — Peyton  wondered,  and  if  so,  was  it  of  Hugh  she 
was  thinking? 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment  as  he  finished  speaking, 
and  Peyton  regarded  her  anxiously.  He  was  not  quite 
sure  whether  his  high-spirited  sister  would  brook  what 
she  might  consider  interference  in  her  affairs;  and  he  very 
much  disliked  coming  in  conflict  with  her  on  any  subject. 


THE  LEADER  129 

when,  as  he  ruefully  acknowledged,  she  usually  got  the 
best  of  him. 

He  was  greatly  relieved,  therefore,  at  the  gentleness 
of  her  tone,  as  with  eyes  still  downcast  and  plucking  ner- 
vously at  a  second  daisy — not  now  with  any  method  in 
the  manner  of  it — she  answered  him: 

"Thank  you,  Peyton.  I  recognize  the  truth  in  what 
you  have  said,  and  I  appreciate  your  saying  it;  I  know 
it  was  not  easy  for  you.  I  like  Hugh  very  much  indeed — 
you  know  that.  And — and — "  lifting  her  eyes  bravely 
to  Peyton,  but  with  burning  cheeks,  she  spoke  with  as- 
sumed lightness — "I'm  thinking  of  giving  him  a  trial  this 
summer." 

It  was  this  conversation  of  the  morning,  and  most  of 
all  Margaret's  concluding  speech,  that  made  Peyton's 
glances  rest  so  tenderly  and  with  such  approbation  on  his 
sister  sitting  in  the  box  by  Hugh's  side.  Margaret  under- 
stood the  glances  and  winced  under  them. 

But  the  delegates  were  beginning  to  come  in  now,  and 
all  her  attention  was  absorbed  by  them;  she  had  no  longer 
any  thoughts  for  either  Hugh's  adoration  or  Peyton's 
glances. 

As  one  state  delegation  after  another  entered  the  hall 
in  close  column,  and  took  its  place  about  the  state  banner 
bearing  its  name,  Margaret's  pulses  quickened.  She 
was  curiously  excited,  and  hardly  understood  why.  It 
seemed  to  her  scarcely  possible  that  it  was  only  two  days 
since  she  had  seen  Mr.  Dalton.  That  intervening 
day  at  Beauvoir  had  stretched  itself  out  like  an  interim 
of  weeks,  and  she  was  conscious  of  feeling  the  excitement 


130  THE  LEADER 

one  would  naturally  feel  in  the  expectation  of  seeing  at 
any  moment  the  face  of  an  old  friend  for  a  long  time 
absent. 

The  great  hall,  packed  with  its  thousands,  every  seat 
even  to  the  uppermost  tier  filled,  and  every  aisle  and 
window  space  and  doorway  crowded  with  men  patiently 
wedged  together  in  the  hot  and  breathless  air,  added  to 
her  excitement.  It  seemed  to  her  that  they  too  were 
waiting  with  tense  nerves  for  something  to  happen  or 
some  one  to  come.  It  surprised  her  to  discover  that 
there  was  nothing  of  this  quiver  of  anticipation  in  the 
others  in  her  box;  they  were  talking  together  as  lightly 
and  easily  as  if  they  were  waiting  for  the  curtain  to  rise 
at  the  play,  and  it  jarred  on  her  as  strangely  incongruous. 

Presently,  the  young  graduate  who  had  been  with  them 
at  The  Southern,  strolled  by  their  box,  and  seeing  who 
was  occupying  it,  turned  and  came  back,  with  alert 
greetings  for  them  all.  As  he  shook  hands  with  Margaret 
he  said  to  her: 

"Is'nt  this  great,  Miss  Le  Beau!  Were  you  here  yes- 
terday?" 

Margaret  had  to  confess  she  was  not;  she  was  out  of 
town. 

"Oh,  you  missed  a  lot,"  he  said  enthusiastically. 
"Walter's  opening  speech  was  fine!  You  should  have 
heard  him  score  the  President!" 

His  excitement  was  pleasant  to  Margaret,  it  seemed  to 
give  countenance  to  her  own.  She  asked  him  to  sit 
down,  and,  as  on  the  evening  at  The  Southern,  he  at 
once  began  to  point  out  the  men  of  distinction — leaders 


THE  LEADER  131 

of  delegations,  state  bosses,  chairmen  of  committees, 
party  whips — he  seemed  to  know  them  all.  Margaret 
enjoyed  it  thoroughly. 

"What  a  delightful  young  fellow!"  she  murmured  in 
Hugh's  ear. 

But  in  the  very  act  of  telling  a  good  story  about  the 
temporary  chairman,  the  young  collegian  caught  sight 
of  the  debutante  who  had  been  a  member  of  their  party 
at  The  Southern,  and  finishing  his  story  hurriedly  and 
rather  lamely,  he  excused  himself  and  joined  her  in  the 
next  box. 

Margaret  laughed: 

"He's  charming!  But  do  you  suppose  he'll  have  to 
go  through  it  all  again  over  there?" 

"Oh,  I  hope  they'll  let  him,"  returned  Hugh,  "He'll 
be  so  disappointed  if  they  don't.  I  think  if  you  listen, 
in  about  two  minutes  you'll  hear  that  story  about  Wal- 
ters." 

Sure  enough,  the  two  minutes  were  not  up  when  the 
high,  clear  tones  of  the  young  collegian  penetrated  to 
their  box  above  the  confused  murmur  of  many  voices : — 
"By  the  way,  I  heard  a  good  story  about  Walters  this 
morning — " 

They  heard  no  more,  for  Mr.  Seton  came  up  at  that 
moment  and  was  cordially  greeted  by  Margaret  nd  Hugh 
and  by  Helen.  Peyton's  greeting  was  no  more  cordial 
than  courtesy  demanded,  but  Julie  was  all  smiles  and 
fluttering  excitement,  as  she  made  room  for  him  to  bring 
a  chair  beside  hers.  Seton  was  brim  full  and  running 
over  with  enthusiasm. 


132  THE  LEADER 

"Dal ton's  delegation  is  just  coming  in,"  he  said  ex- 
citedly. "I  left  them  at  the  corner  and  r^n  to  get  ahead 
of  them.  I  wouldn't  miss  seeing  the  grand  entry  for 
anything." 

Up  to  this  time  as  each  de'egation  had  entered,  there 
had  been  more  or  less  applause  from  galleries  and  boxes, 
but  nothing  that  had  struck  Margaret  as  worthy  of  being 
called  by  so  fine  a  name  as  Mr.  Seton  had  used. 

"Why  do  you  call  it  a  grand  entry?"  she  asked  him. 
"Will  it  be  so  much  finer  than  the  others?" 

"You  were  not  here  yesterday,  Miss  Le  Beau,"  he  re- 
turned. "He  had  quite  an  ovation,  wouldn't  you  have 
called  it  so,  Miss  Delauney?" 

"Yes,  indeed!"  answered  Julie  enthusiastically.  "There 
was  nothing  else  to  compare  with  it.  I'm  so  sorry  you 
missed  it,  Margaret." 

Margaret  was  sorry  too,  but  the  keenness  of  her  regret 
lasted  but  for  a  minute.  There  was  a  sudden  stir  of  ex- 
pectancy; a  thrill  of  excitement  ran  through  the  vast 
audience.  Every  head  was  turned,  with  necks  craned 
back  towards  the  center  door,  kept  free  for  the  entrance 
of  delegates. 

The  upper  tier  caught  sight  of  him  first.  A  great  roar 
sprang  from  the  throats  of  the  thousands  of  sturdy  men 
in  that  high  gallery.  It  was  caught  up  by  the  next  lower 
tier,  and  the  next,  wave  after  wave  of  thunderous  sound, 
till  galleries,  boxes,  delegates,  reporters:  ten  thousand 
strong  men  and  dainty  women  were  on  their  feet  waving 
flags,  hats  and  handkerchiefs,  and  like  one  great  voice, 
shaking  the  vast  dome  with  their  mighty  shout — "Dal- 


THE  LEADER  133 

ton!"  "Dalton!"  "Dalton!" 

Margaret  was  caught  up  in  the  cyclone  of  excitement, 
and  standing  on  tip-toe  was  strenuously  waving  high 
above  her  head  the  bit  of  white  cambric  she  called  her 
handkerchief.  So  were  Helen  and  Julie.  Even  Peyton 
found  himself,  by  no  will  of  his  own,  on  his  feet  and  occa- 
sionally waving  his  hat  in  half-hearted  fashion.  But 
Hugh  was  swinging  his  around  his  head  in  wide  circles, 
and  his  stentorian  tones  shut  out  every  other  voice  from 
Margaret's  ears— "Dalton!"  "Dalton!"  "Dalton!" 

Only  Seton  neither  waved  his  hat  nor  shouted.  He 
stood  with  the  others,  but  he  was  pale,  and  trembling 
with  excitement.  The  delegation  had  advanced  far 
enough  down  the  aisle  by  this  time  to  come  within  Mar- 
garet's line  of  vision.  Dalton  walked  at  the  head  of  it, 
his  leonine  head,  erect  on  his  broad  shoulders,  thrown 
slightly  back  as  he  lifted  his  eyes  to  the  galleries,  and  his 
face  illuminated  with  an  emotion  too  strong  to  be  called 
a  smile.  As  he  came  into  the  view  of  each  new  segment 
of  the  circle  of  spectators  heretofore  shut  off  from  seeing 
him  by  being  on  the  side  where  he  was  entering,  a  fresh 
wave  of  sound  swelled  up,  adding  volume  to  the  great 
roar,  till  like  a  mighty  eygre  it  swept  resistlessly  to  the 
dome  in  one  great  cry— "Dalton!"  "Dalton!"  "Dalton!" 

As  the  delegation  took  its  place  about  its  state  banner 
— every  member  of  it  swelling  with  pride  in  the  triumph 
of  their  leader — Dalton  turned,  and  swept  with  his 
glance,  first  the  high  gallery,  then  the  lower  tiers,  then 
the  boxes.  Last  of  all  his  glance  fell  on  Margaret.  He 
knew  just  where  to  look  for  her;  he  had  located  her  box 


134  THE  LEADER 

the  day  before  by  Julie  Delauney's  presence  in  it,  and 
he  had  noticed  her  absence  with  a  keen  disappointment 
that  had  surprised  himself.  Now  his  glance  met  hers, 
it  seemed  to  Margaret,  as  directly  as  if  they  had  been 
standing  but  a  few  feet  from  each  other;  and  it  seemed 
to  her  also,  that  it  brought  a  special  message  for  her 
alone.  His  grey  eyes,  dark  with  the  glow  of  strong  feel- 
ing, looked  straight  into  hers,  and  she  returned  the  look 
with  more  of  her  soul  in  her  own  than  she  knew.  It  was 
but  a  moment;  his  glance  swept  on,  and  Margaret,  feeling 
now,  like  Seton,  too  deeply  for  any  outer  manifestation 
of  enthusiasm,  let  her  hand  with  its  fluttering  white 
handkerchief  fall  at  her  side,  and  sank  back  into  her 
chair  pale  and  trembling  while  the  mighty  roar  around 
her  grew  deeper  and  stronger — "Dalton!"  "Dalton!" 
"Dalton!" 

Frank  Seton  turned  toward  her.  It  would  have  been 
folly  to  try  to  speak  in  such  a  tempest,  but  he  took  out 
his  watch  and  pointed  to  five  minutes  before  two  and 
showed  her  that  the  hands  were  now  six  minutes  past. 
For  eleven  minutes  that  mighty  uproar  had  been  going 
on  and  there  were  no  signs  of  its  abating.  Men  were 
leaping  up  on  railings,  on  window  sills,  on  the  tables  of 
the  reporters,  urging  on  the  shouting  with  wild  and  fran- 
tic gestures.  In  vain  the  chairman  pounded  the  desk 
with  his  gavel;  he  might  as  well  have  been  a  phantom 
chairman  pounding  on  thin  air  as  far  as  any  sound  of  his 
gavel  was  heard,  or  as  far  as  any  respect  was  shown  to 
his  authority. 

And  now  there  was  a  new  note  in  the  uproar.     Far  up 


THE  LEADER  135 

in  the  high  gallery,  a  tall  sinewy  Westerner,  with  a  voice 
like  a  bugle  call,  leaning  far  over  and  waving  a 
great  flag,  shouted — "Give  us  Dalton!"  "Give  us  Dai- 
ton  !"  Instantly  the  lower  tiers,  the  boxes,  the  thousands 
on  the  floor  took  it  up — "Give  us  Dalton!"  "Give  us 
Dalton!" 

To  Margaret's  excited  senses  it  sounded  like  the  long- 
ing cry  of  one  vast  hungry  heart.  It  seemed  to  her  di- 
rected straight  to  the  horseshoe  of  delegates,  and  she  did 
not  believe  there  was  a  body  of  men  in  the  world  who 
could  resist  the  importunate  pleading  of  that  cry — 
"Give  us  Dalton!"  "Give  us  Dalton!" 

The  response  from  the  delegates  was  almost  instanta- 
neous. A  delegate  from  one  of  the  Western  states  picked 
up  his  state  standard,  ran  across  the  aisle  with  it,  and 
planted  it  firmly  beside  the  standard  of  Dalton's  state. 
Instantly  an  eastern  delegation,  as  one  man,  rushed  to 
place  their  standard  by  the  other  two.  Then  state  after 
state,  followed,  from  the  East,  from  the  West,  from  the 
South;  from  far  Hawaii  to  Porto  Rico;  the  cries  of  the 
delegates  themselves  growing  every  minute  more  frantic 
and  the  great  roar  from  the  galleries  growing  steadily 
stronger— "Give  us  Dalton!"  "Give  us  Dalton!" 

Seton  took  out  his  watch  and  once  more  in  dumb  show 
indicated  to  Margaret — "Eighteen  minutes  and  no  signs 
of  subsiding!"  He  was  no  longer  pale,  his  face  was 
radiant.  To  him  there  seemed  now  no  doubt  of  the  ulti- 
mate result,  and  to  Margaret  too,  Hugh's  words  seemed 
already  verified — "He  is  the  coming  man." 

But  now  she  perceived  men  quietly  passing  about 


136  THE  LEADER 

among  the  delegates,  and  she  recognized  them  to  be  men 
the  young  collegian  had  pointed  out  as  party  whips  and 
state  bosses.  She  felt  a  keen  anxiety  as  she  watched 
them,  she  hardly  knew  why,  but  when  Seton  turned  and 
looked  at  her,  she  saw  her  anxiety  reflected  and  deepened 
in  his  face.  The  joyous,  radiant  confidence  was  gone, 
though  he  made  a  gesture  of  bold  defiance,  as  if  daring 
the  machine  to  do  its  worst,  since  the  hearts  of  the  people 
were  with  Dalton. 

It  seemed  to  Margaret  also,  a  moment  later,  that  the 
delegates  were  wavering,  that  the  insidious  work  of  the 
party  whips  was  having  its  effect.  They  were  no  longer 
so  frantic,  and  here  and  there  a  delegation  had  almost 
ceased  its  shouting.  Not  that  the  roar  around  her  had 
lessened  in  the  least.  If  possible  it  was  growing  stronger 
with  that  rhythmic  cry,  like  the  pulsation  of  a  great 
heart— "Dalton!  Dalton!  Give  us  Dalton!" 

Suddenly  a  delegate  from  a  southern  state  forced  his 
way  through  the  crowd  to  the  platform  bearing  a  great 
banner  with  Berkeley's  face  on  it.  For  an  instant  there 
was  almost  silence  under  the  vast  dome,  then  the  uproar 
broke  out  again  more  frantic  than  before.  There  were 
counter  cries  now,  for  "Berkeley !"  "Berkeley  1"  "Berk- 
eley!" And  the  states  that  had  not  gathered  around 
Dalton  began  to  press  to  the  platform  and  plant  their 
standards  beside  the  Berkeley  banner.  All  the  more 
frantically  from  the  galleries  came  cries  for  Dalton,  and 
as  some  of  the  states  that  had  gathered  about  him — 
states  that  had  come  to  the  convention  instructed  for 
Berkeley  but  had  been  borne  away  on  the  tide  of  pop- 


THE  LEADER  137 

ular  enthusiasm  to  Dalton's  side — now  returned  to  their 
duty,  and  slunk  away  to  join  the  Berkeley  forces  on  the 
platform,  pandemonium  broke  loose.  Yells,  cat-calls, 
"Berkeley!"  "Dalton!"  the  incessant  pounding  of  the 
gavel,  the  imploring  gestures  of  the  chairman  striving  to 
restore  order;  the  party  whips  driving  reluctant  dele- 
gations to  take  their  stand  by  Berkeley;  the  frantic  cries 
of  the  galleries — as  they  saw  delegations  drawing  away 
from  their  idol — drowning  the  Berkeley  cries  as  the  roar 
of  Niagara  drowns  the  waters  of  the  mill-dam;  it  seemed 
to  Margaret,  wrought  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement, 
that  it  was  more  than  she  could  endure.  Then  gradually, 
no  one  knew  why  or  how,  the  tumult  quieted  itself.  The 
thud  of  the  gavel  began  to  make  itself  heard,  and  at  last, 
with  a  voice  hoarse  from  ineffectual  cries,  the  chairman 
called  the  house  to  order. 

Seton  showed  Margaret  his  watch  once  more.  For 
twenty-nine  long  minutes,  that  vast  audience  had  roared 
Dal  ton's  name! 

"Was  it  like  this  yesterday?"  Margaret  asked  Seton, 
for  now  she  could  make  herself  heard. 

"Oh,  no!  That  was  nothing  to  this."  And  then  with 
glowing  eyes,  and  a  voice  whose  solemn  intensity  gave  it 
the  effect  of  awe  he  added — 

"Miss  Le  Beau,  there  was  never  anything  in  the  world 
like  this!  This  was  no  work  of  a  machine — it  was  the 
voice  of  the  people!" 


CHAPTER  X. 

PUT  TO  THE  TEST. 

"  'The  voice  of  the  people  is  the  voice  of  God'  isn't 
it?" 

Up  to  this  moment  Julie  had  found  no  chance  to  say 
anything  to  Seton.  She  was  not  going  to  lose  this  first 
opening,  and  if  she  flippantly  minced  in  where  reverent 
step  was  due,  how  was  Seton,  a  mere  man,  and  a  rarely 
guileless  one  where  women  were  concerned,  to  know 
that.  He  thought  she  showed  unusual  perceptions  for 
such  a  child,  as  he  still  persisted  in  considering  her, 
though  Margaret,  her  junior  by  a  year,  made  no  such 
impression  of  youth  upon  him. 

He  turned  to  her  now  and  they  entered  at  once  upon  a 
half  intimate  conversation,  that  set  Margaret  to  wonder- 
ing at  the  advance  in  the  terms  of  their  acquaintance,  for 
she  had  not  known  that  they  had  spent  the  afternoon 
before,  while  she  was  at  Beauvoir,  together  in  her  box  at 
the  convention. 

"How  did  that  impress  you,  Peyton?  What  do  you 
think  of  him  now?"  Hugh  called  across  to  the  other  side 
of  the  box  where  Peyton  was  sitting,  forgetting  for  a 
moment  that  Seton  was  Dalton's  bosom  friend  and  no 
free  expression  of  opinion  before  him  was  possible. 

But  Peyton  did  not  forget. 

"It  was  wonderful!  I  never  saw  its  like!"  he  answered 
politely,  and  turned  again  to  Mrs.  Paxton. 


THE  LEADER  139 

The  note  of  cool  aloofness  in  Peyton's  tone  warned 
Hugh,  and  he  sought  in  Margaret  the  sympathy  he  was 
sure  of,  for  his  ardent  soul  was  now  all  aflame  with  ad- 
miration of  the  man  who,  he  was  convinced,  was  not 
coming  but  had  arrived. 

The  man  himself,  the  center  of  all  eyes,  the  pivot  of 
all  thoughts,  sat  in  his  place,  outwardly  unperturbed, 
inwardly  his  soul  in  a  tumult.  He  had  not  failed  to 
recognize  the  significance  of  his  desertion  by  the  dele- 
gations for  Berkeley.  The  greatness  of  his  ovation  had 
surprised  him  as  much  as  he  knew  it  must  have  astounded 
the  party  leaders.  He  had  always  believed  the  rank  and 
file  of  the  party  to  be  with  him,  but  anything  so  univer- 
sal, so  overwhelming  as  this  demonstration,  had  not 
entered  his  thoughts.  He  knew  that  for  a  while  the  great 
machine  itself  must  have  been  stunned;  must  have  feared 
that  it  was  all  wrong  in  its  calculations;  that  Dalton  still 
held  the  party  in  his  thrall,  and  could  at  any  moment,  by 
the  magic  of  his  personality,  sweep  away  the  carefully 
planned  and  intricately  worked  out  wheels  and  connect- 
ing bands  of  the  machine. 

The  mistake  had  been  that  the  ovation  had  continued 
too  long.  It  had  given  the  whips  a  chance  to  recover 
from  their  stupefaction,  and  to  get  to  work  on  counter 
lines.  Of  course  it  had  not  escaped  Dalton's  keen  glance 
— -though  he  had  not  so  good  a  place  for  observation  as 
Margaret — that  the  party  whips  were  moving  about 
from  delegation  to  delegation,  persuading  some, 
threatening  others,  until  they  had  finally  licked  them, 
partially  at  least,  into  shape.  It  was  a  little  comfort 


140  THE  LEADER 

that  the  delegations  had  not  deserted  him  voluntarily, 
but  under  compelling  stress;  and  some  of  them,  at  least, 
openly  sulky. 

Yet  the  elation,  the  exaltation  of  soul  with  which  he 
had  listened  to  that  mighty  roar  of  acclamations,  watch- 
ing the  wild  enthusiasm  sweeping  over  the  mass  like  a 
great  tidal  wavej  had  left  him,  and  left  him  in  a  corres- 
ponding state  of  depression. 

He  was  a  born  fighter,  who  loved  the  din  of  conflict, 
and  most  of  all  loved  to  wrest  victory  from  defeat;  but 
there  was  slowly  settling  upon  him  the  conviction, 
that  it  was  not  with  hearts  of  flesh  and  blood  he  was 
now  to  deal.  Long  experience  had  given  him  the  right 
to  trust  in  his  power  of  moulding  men  to  his  will  by  the 
magic  of  his  voice  and  the  eloquence  of  his  oratory;  but 
he  had  no  weapons  with  which  to  contend  against  inani- 
mate, unimpressionable,  and  relentless  forces  of  organi- 
zation and  political  cunning. 

In  a  preliminary  meeting  of  the  Resolutions  Com- 
mittee the  night  before,  he  had  given  Jim  Burton  to 
understand  that  he  was  not  to  be  moved  from  his  pur- 
pose to  get  his  an ti- trust  plank  into  the  platform;  nor 
could  he  be  induced  in  any  way  to  modify  it.  He  had 
been  given  to  understand  in  return,  that  it  was  now  war 
to  the  knife  between  him  and  the  machine,  and  that  no 
means  would  be  left  untried  that  could  contribute  to  his 
downfall.  This  afternoon  he  had  been  conscious  of  a 
grim  sense  of  triumph  in  witnessing  the  helplessness  and 
stupefaction  of  the  great  leaders  before  the  overwhelm- 
ing expression  of  the  people's  will,  but  it  had  left  him 


THE  LEADER  141 

with  as  grim  a  sense  of  defeat  to  own  to  himself  finally 
that  the  party  lash  had  still  power  to  whip  the  voting 
body  into  subjection. 

He  was  nerving  himself  now  for  a  supreme  effort.  In 
a  few  minutes  the  report  of  the  Credentials  Committee 
would  be  called  and  his  power  to  control  the  votes  of  the 
delegates  would  be  put  to  the  test.  Although  refusing 
a  place  on  the  Credentials  Committee  because  he  would 
not  give  up  what  he  considered  his  far  more  important 
position  on  the  Resolutions  Committee,  he  had  yet  con- 
sented to  accept  the  proxy  of  a  member  of  that  commit- 
tee, and  to  present  to  the  convention  the  minority  report 
in  behalf  of  those  unseated  delegates  whom  Margaret 
had  witnessed  making  such  a  strong  plea  for  his  help  at 
The  Southern. 

Their  cause  was  just — there  was  no  doubt  of  that — 
but  Dal  ton  was  wondering  just  now  whether  he  had  been 
wise  to  put  matters  to  the  touch  so  early  in  the  history 
of  the  convention.  Defeat  in  this  would  mean  much  to 
him  now;  the  machine  no  doubt  would  make  it  the  test 
of  his  strength,  and  until  this  moment  he  Jiad  not  realized 
how  completely  the  convention  was  dominated  by  the 
machine.  It  was  too  late  now  to  go  back  on  his  promise. 
Those  fellows 'were  trusting  him,  and  he  must  do  the  best 
for  them  possible,  but  he  began  to  feel  a  nervousness  very 
unusual  to  him,  as  he  sat  there  mentally  running  over 
the  line  of  argument  he  was  to  use,  and  at  the  same  time 
vividly  picturing  to  himself  the  probabilities  of  defeat 
and  the  disastrous  consequences  that  would  surely  follow. 

There  was  no  question  of  the  justice  of  their  cause: 


142  THE  LEADER 

the  country  had  thrilled  with  indignation  at  the  gag- 
rule  methods  of  the  convention  that  had  sent  another 
list  of  delegates  to  sit  in  their  seats.  And  now  the  Cre- 
dentials Committee  was  approving  the  iniquitous  meth- 
ods of  the  gag-rule  gang;  no,  there  was  no  question  of  the 
justice  of  their  cause — but  Dalton  was  beginning  to 
doubt  the  expediency  of  his  championing  it. 

Then  there  flashed  into  his  mind  a  vivid  question: 
What  have  you  to  do  with  expediency?  It  is  for  you  to 
champion  the  right  and  the  cause  of  the  unjustly  op- 
pressed, let  the  result  be  what  it  may! 

From  that  moment  his  soul  was  quiet  and  he  awaited 
with  calmness  the  report  of  the  Credentials  Committee 
which  his  would  immediately  follow. 

Up  in  the  box,  Seton  was  keeping  them  instructed  in 
the  progress  of  events.  He  was  interpreter  in  general 
to  them  of  the  occult  significance  of  many  little  incidents, 
that,  but  for  his  enlightening,  might  have  been  lost  to 
them.  Peyton  and  Hugh,  of  course,  being  men,  had 
slight  need  of  his  services;  a  strenuous  devotion  night 
and  morning  to  the  daily  papers,  having  kept  them  in- 
telligent in  political  affairs.  Margaret  too,  understood 
most  of  what  was  going  on  around  her,  being  of  that  rare 
species  of  young  woman  a  reader  of  the  front  page  and 
the  editorials  in  the  morning  dailies.  But  Helen  was 
frankly  ignorant,  and  Julie,  if  she  was  not,  pretended  to 
be,  insisting  that  she  never  read  anything  but  the  death 
notices  and  society  news,  and  appealing  with  bewitching 
childlikeness  to  Seton's  superior  intelligence. 

It  was  due  to  his  explanations  that  Margaret  under- 


THE  LEADER  143 

stood  how  much  was  at  stake  in  Dalton's  presentation  of 
the  minority  report,  and  her  eyes  followed  him  as  he  rose 
from  his  seat  and  started  for  the  platform,  with  almost 
as  intense  an  interest  at  Seton's. 

"I  begged  him  not  to  undertake  it,"  Seton  turned  in- 
stinctively to  Margaret  when  he  had  anything  to  say 
about  Dalton,  "There's  too  much  at  stake!  But  Dal- 
ton's a  little  of  a  quixote,  and  besides,  he  would  not  be- 
lieve how  much  under  Jim  Burton's  thumb  the  conven- 
tion is.  I've  no  doubt  he  sees  it  now,  but  he'll  never 
own  himself  beaten  till  the  last  gun's  fired." 

Seton  turned  back  to  follow  Dalton  with  anxious  eyes, 
his  jaw  set  in  grim  lines  that  betrayed  the  intensity  of  his 
feeling. 

Something  of  the  same  grim  intensity  characterized 
the  whole  body  of  delegates  as  they  silently  watched 
Dalton  making  his  way  to  the  platform — his  head  erect, 
his  eyes  luminous,  with  a  pallor  that  betrayed  his  con- 
sciousness that  this  was  to  be  a  supreme  and  final  effort : 
that  it  meant  to  him  politically,  victory  or  death. 

There  was  scarcely  a  sound  of  applause  from  the  dele- 
gates— not  even  from  his  friends  among  them — though 
the  galleries  could  never  see  him  rise  to  his  feet  without 
breaking  into  wild  cries  of  adoration.  They  were  still 
shouting  his  name  when  he  began  to  read  his  report,  but 
they  quieted  instantly;  for  careless  and  inattentive  as  the 
house  might  be  to  much  that  went  on  on  the  platform, 
there  was  no  one,  whether  friend  or  foe,  who  wanted  to 
lose  a  word  of  the  silver-tongued  orator,  knowing  well 
that  every  word  he  uttered  was  significant,  and  of  rare 


144  THE  LEADER 

force  and  eloquence. 

The  report  itself  was  long,  setting  forth  in  full  the 
merits  of  the  case,  and  so  clearly,  that  Margaret,  who 
had  known  but  little  of  it  before,  now  comprehended  it 
fully.  At  its  close,  listened  to  in  a  silence  that  was  won- 
derful in  such  a  vast  and  restless  audience,  Dalton  turned 
to  the  chairman  and  moved  to  substitute  his  minority 
report  for  the  majority  rePort,  and  requested  also  time 
for  debate. 

Then  followed  a  tragic  hour.  Seldom  has  the  world 
seen  such  a  spectacle:  a  man  of  imperial  personality, 
wielding  all  the  weapons  of  keen  logic,  forceful  argument, 
brilliant  rhetoric,  impassioned  appeal,  rousing  to  wildest 
enthusiasm  the  thousands  who  heard  him,  yet  hurling 
his  wonderful  personality  and  his  powerful  oratory 
against  that  solid  body  of  delegates  as  against  a  wall  of 
stone. 

The  people  were  with  him.  If  they  could  have  had 
their  way,  they  would  have  given  him  his  will  to  the 
uttermost.  They  broke  out  into  a  delirium  of  adulation 
when  he  spoke,  they  drowned  with  hisses  the  speakers 
on  the  other  side.  When  he  rose  for  the  second  time  to 
close  the  debate,  the  vast  hall  was  almost  breathless.  He 
had  but  a  few  minutes  in  which  to  sum  up  the  case,  and 
he  ended  by  making  a  pungent  appeal  to  the  delegates 
not  to  let  the  men  who  had  deserted  the  party  four  years 
before,  come  back  to  gag  and  bind  it  now  to  their  corrupt 
will. 

When  he  sat  down  roaring  frenzy  followed,  and  it  was 
long  before  the  chairman  could  get  the  house  sufficiently 


"  When  Dalton  rose  for  the  second  time  to  close  the  debate,  the 
vast  hall  was  almost  breathless." 


THE  LEADER  145 

quiet  to  take  the  vote. 

Dalton  had  taken  his  seat  with  his  state  delegation, 
and  in  leaving  the  platform  his  glance  had  once  more 
sought  Margaret.  He  knew  that  he  had  never  spoken 
with  more  of  the  divine  fire,  and  he  believed  that  the 
consciousness  of  her  presence  and  her  intense  sympathy 
had  been  part  of  his  inspiration.  At  least  he  would  see 
if  he  had  been  right  in  assuming  the  sympathy.  His 
eyes  had  a  way  of  projecting  his  soul  across  space,  and 
Margaret,  sitting  in  her  box,  felt  across  the  intervening 
heads  of  the  delegates  that  lightning-like  flash  with  its 
keen  inquiry,  and  felt  herself  also  powerless  to  restrain 
the  quick  response  of  her  own  eyes.  She  watched  him 
take  his  seat,  saw  his  friends  in  the  delegation  crowd 
around  him  with  congratulating  hands  and  smiles,  and 
then,  as  the  uproar  began  to  diminish,  and  the  delegates 
get  into  place  for  voting,  she  saw  Dalton  settle  back  in 
his  seat,  and  she  thought  she  could  distinguish,  even 
from  where  she  sat,  the  tense  lines  deepening  about  the 
firm  mouth  and  chin. 

There  was  a  momentary  hush  of  expectation  as  the 
chairman  rose  to  put  the  question.  The  strain  of  the 
moment  was  too  much  for  Seton — he  leaned  forward, 
his  elbows  on  his  knees,  his  face  buried  in  his  hands.  The 
question  was  responded  to  by  a  respectable  volume  of 
ayes;  Seton  breathed  easier.  But  a  thunder  of  noes  fol- 
lowed hard  after,  drowning  the  ayes  too  overwhelmingly 
for  any  chance  of  mistake.  Seton  groaned  audibly  and 
lifted  a  white  face  to  Margaret: 

"Why  did  he  do  it!"    His  tone  was  a  hoarse  whisper. 


146  THE  LEADER 

"I  begged  him  not  to — there  was  too  much  at  stake  to 
force  their  hand  so  early  in  the  game." 

Margaret  could  give  him  no  comfort;  she  was  herself 
unaccountably  and  horribly  depressed,  and  wondered 
how  Peyton  and  Helen  could,  at  that  moment,  laugh 
lightly  at  the  futile  efforts  of  a  young  fellow  to  get  out  of 
the  crush  he  was  in — resulting  finally,  in  his  clambering 
up  a  sturdy  countryman  as  he  might  have  climbed  a  tree, 
and  walking  over  the  shoulders  of  the  good-natured 
crowd. 

There  was  a  stir  among  the  delegates.     Dalton  was 
again  on  his  feet,  and  the  frantic  galleries,  which  had 
broken  forth  at  that  thunderous  "No!"  into  wild  dem- 
onstrations of  sympathy  and  disgust,  quieted  instantly. 
"Mr.  Chairman,  I  ask  for  a  roll-call  of  the  delegations." 
Dalton  spoke  quietly,  but  there  was  something — it  did 
not  amount  to  a  tremor,  but  it  was  an  unusual  vibration 
in  the  rich  tones — that  cut  to  the  heart  every  friend  who 
heard  it.    When,  ever  before,  had  they  seen  their  hero 
quail! 

Up  to  this  moment,  Dalton  had  not  believed  that  he 
could  not  compel  that  body  of  men  by  the  force  of  his 
logic  and  the  fire  of  his  oratory.  Up  to  this  moment,  he 
had  not  fully  realized  that  it  was  not  men  he  was  talking 
to,  but  a  bloodless  organization — an  inanimate  and 
deadly  machine. 

Steadily  the  dismal  roll-call  went  on.  But  as  Dalton 
heard  state  after  state,  that  he  had  confidently  relied 
upon,  swung  over  to  the  enemy,  many  of  them  by  the 
fatal  unit  rule,  his  eyes  darkened  and  began  to  glow,  the 


THE  LEADER  147 

color  came  again  into  his  cheek,  and  by  the  time  the 
roll-call  was  ended  his  whole  air  breathed  indomitable 
courage  and  defiance.  Margaret,  watching  him  intently, 
and  noting  how  the  grand  head  had  taken  on  a  prouder 
pose,  and  catching  a  little  of  the  flash  of  the  grey  eyes, 
whispered  to  Seton: 

"Look  at  Mr.  Dalton!    All  can  not  be  lost." 

But  Seton  shrugged  his  shouders  whimsically,  half 
irritation,  half  pride  in  the  gesture: 

"The  trouble  with  Dalton  is,  he  never  knows  when 
he's  beaten.  He's  got  some  new  scheme  in  his  brain 
now,  I  can  see!" 

And  then,  as  one  who  has  already  had  more  than  he 
can  bear,  he  shook  his  head  humorously,  indicating  por- 
tentous gloom,  as  he  muttered: 

"Oh  lordy!    I  wonder  what  he's  up  to  now!" 


CHAPTER  XI. 

DALTON'S  SCHEME. 

What  Dalton  might  be  up  to,  it  was  very  certain  Seton 
would  know  before  long.  In  a  few  minutes  the  conven- 
tion had  adjourned.  The  leaders  felt  that  they  had  ac- 
complished enough  in  one  afternoon  in  the  defeat  of 
Dalton,  and  they  did  not  think  it  wise  to  give  that  irre- 
pressible phoenix  time  to  rise  from  his  ashes. 

Seton  excused  himself  to  go  down  and  speak  to  Dalton 
and  if  he  might,  he  said,  he  would  like  to  bring  him  up  to 
the  box  for  a  few  minutes.  Hugh  who  overheard  the  re- 
quest, added  an  urgent  invitation  to  Margaret's  polite 
one,  and  the  others,  overhearing  Hugh,  it  was  made  cor- 
dially unanimous. 

Seton  was  not  sure  that  Dalton  would  have  even  a  few 
minutes  to  spare,  and  when  he  delivered  the  invitation 
Dalton  at  first  thought  it  would  be  impossible  to  accept 
it.  He  shrank  nervously  from  meeting  these  people  in 
whose  eyes  he  frankly  confessed  to  himself  he  wished  to 
shine,  and  who  had  just  been  witness  to  his  defeat.  Then 
he  decided  that  the  feeling  was  an  unworthy  one,  and 
moreover  he  greatly  desired  to  meet  Margaret  again,  for 
in  the  crowding  of  events  and  engrossing  interests  of  the 
last  two  days,  Mrs.  Paxton's  high  tea,  where  he  had  last 
seen  her,  seemed  to  have  receded  into  a  dim  perspective 
of  distance. 

They  were  all  frankly  glad  to  see  him  in  the  box,  and 


THE  LEADER  149 

V 

the  pretty  little  air  of  pride  in  entertaining  so  great  a 
man  which  the  ladies  put  into  their  cordial  greetings, 
went  far  towards  restoring  him  to  his  ease.  Even  Pey- 
ton was  too  much  of  a  thorough-bred  not  to  feel  sympa- 
thy for  the  man  that  was  down,  and  too  well-bred  to  ex- 
press the  sympathy  in  words.  Dalton  was  grateful  to 
him  for  what  he  left  unsaid,  and  for  the  first  time  found 
something  to  like  in  Margaret's  cynical  brother. 

For  the  first  time  also,  Peyton  found  himself  stirred  in 
his  emotions  towards  Dalton  by  the  plucky  fight  the 
man  was  making,  and  when  Hugh  diffidently  preferred 
his  request  for  a  week  of  Dalton's  time  after  the  conven- 
tion, Peyton  seconded  him  with  more  genuine  cordiality 
than  he  had  hitherto  displayed  towards  Dalton,  A  cor- 
diality of  which  he  repented  later,  however,  since  it  was 
visibly  the  clinching  argument  for  Dalton  in  favor  of  his 
acceptance,  and  when  Peyton  had  taken  time  to  reflect 
he  saw  at  once  there  could  be  no  greater  menace  to  his 
plans  for  Margaret  than  this  visit  of  Dalton  to  Hugh. 

Much  had  to  be  crowded  into  the  few  minutes  Dalton 
had  to  spare,  for  everyone  wanted  a  chance  to  express 
his  interest  and  admiration.  There  were  incessant  calls 
for  him  from  all  parts  of  the  house,  and  men,  with  their 
hungry  eyes  fastened  on  the  box,  were  evidently  waiting 
to  seize  him  the  moment  he  should  be  free.  It  made 
Margaret  quite  nervous  for  him,  and  she  was  ready  to 
cut  short  the  visit  she  had  at  first  desired. 

But  if  Dalton  felt  hurried,  he  showed  no  signs  of  it, 
and  if  he  did  not  really  linger,  he  gave  all  the  effect  of  it 
in  the  rare  deliberateness  of  his  manner.  He  found  a 


150  THE  LEADER 

chance  to  say  to  Margaret — for  the  uproar  around  them 
made  a  perfect  seclusion: 

"You  have  not  forgotten  that  you  are  my  mascot?" 

"A  very  poor  one  I  am  afraid  you  think,  if  we  are  to 
judge  from  the  vote." 

"Oh,  that  was  as  well  as  I  could  expect.  But  it  is  for 
the  platform  I  bespoke  your  services.  The  Committee 
on  Resolutions  meets  to-night,  and  if  I  succeed  in  getting 
in  my  resolution  I  shall  give  you  the  highest  certificate 
as  a  mascot  in  good  standing." 

There  was  something  very  winning  in  his  smile  as  he 
said  the  foolish  words.  It  seemed  to  Margaret  to  have 
very  divergent  characteristics:  the  gentle  raillery  of  an 
older  man  unbending  to  youth,  and  the  diffident  wist- 
fulness  of  one  who  had  been  hurt  and  was  timidly  asking 
for  sympathy. 

This  last  touched  Margaret  greatly  in  so  strong  a  man, 
and  she  hastened  to  say : 

"I  will  do  my  best,  but  you  are  sure  to  win  and  with- 
out any  help  from  me." 

It  was  twenty  minutes  later  when  Dalton,  who  had 
finally  shaken  off  the  last  importunate  interviewer, 
seized  Seton's  arm  and  made  his  way  through  the  yelling 
crowd  that  packed  the  streets  around  the  Convention 
Hall  to  the  curb. 

"Come,"  he  said,  as  he  drew  him  down  a  quiet  side 
street,  "It's  six  o'clock;  at  seven  the  sub-committee 
meets  and  at  nine  the  committee,  and  I've  made  an  en- 
gagement with  at  least  a  dozen  men  at  my  room  before 
either.  I  must  have  a  talk  with  you  first.  We'll  find  a 


THE  LEADER  151 

little  cafe  somewhere  around  here  and  talk  while  we  eat." 

Neither  of  them  knew  the  neighborhood,  but  by  good 
chance  they  lighted  on  their  quiet  cafe  and  ordered  a 
"ready  to  serve"  supper  of  frugal  proportions.  They 
had  the  room  almost  to  themselves,  and  the  two  or  three 
other  people  who  were  taking  their  evening  meal  there 
at  the  same  hour,  evidently  did  not  recognize  the  lead- 
ing figure  of  the  convention  in  one  of  the  two  men  con- 
versing so  earnestly  in  low  tones  over  their  supper. 

The  waiter  had  placed  before  them  a  platter  of  cold 
meat,  a  plate  of  rolls,  a  pot  of  coffee  and  a  bottle  of  milk, 
and  left  them  to  themselves  while  he  hastened  to  secure 
a  more  promising  couple  just  entering. 

"John,"  said  Frank,  "What  is  it?  I  know  you  have 
some  new  scheme;  I  saw  when  it  came  into  your  mind 
during  the  roll-call  of  the  delegations.  But  whatever 
it  is,  don't  antagonize  Jim  Burton  any  more  if  you  can 
help  it.  He's  going  round  now  with  murder  in  his  eye." 

"I'm  not  trying  to  antagonize  him — I  don't  care  that 
for  Jim  Burton!"  But  as  Dal  ton  snapped  his  fingers 
contemptuously,  his  eyes  flashed  in  a  way  to  betray  that 
he  cared  more  than  he  knew.  "It's  no  new  scheme, 
Frank;  but  that  roll-call  showed  me  just  where  I  stood. 
I  have  nothing  to  hope  for  from  this  convention — you 
were  right,  it's  under  Jim  Burton's  thumb — but  what 
you  saw  in  my  face  during  the  roll-call  was  only  a  renewal 
of  an  old  resolve  to  beat  him  on  the  platform  or  die  in  the 
attempt.  If  I  came  here  with  any  feeble  hopes  of  a  nom- 
ination, they're  all  gone  now — that  vote  settled  them. 
And  the  pity  of  it  is,"  he  added  with  his  whimsical  smilei 


152  THE  LEADER 

"I  care  twice  as  much  about  it  now  as  I  did  before  I 
came." 

Frank  gave  him  a  quick  glance  of  ready  comprehen- 
sion, and  the  noticeable  part  of  it  was  that  there  was 
neither  alarm  nor  disapproval  in  the  glance,  But  a  kind 
of  sneaking  sympathy  instead.  Which  was  remarkable, 
since  he  must  have  recognized  in  Dalton's  whimsical 
smile  that  it  was  the  thought  of  Margaret  that  made  it 
harder  to  give  up  his  hopes. 

Dalton  went  on: 

"What  I  want  you  to  do  is  to  see  these  men,  if  possible, 
before  nine  o'clock;  before  seven,  some  of  them.  I've 
made  you  out  a  list.  They're  on  the  Resolutions  Com- 
mittee, and  I  want  you  to  talk  as  you've  never  talked 
before  in  favor  of  that  trust  plank.  You  know  all  the 
arguments  as  well  as  I  do." 

Then  just  to  be  sure  that  Seton  had  them  all  well  in 
hand,  he  went  over  the  points  with  him,  jotting  down 
little  memoranda  on  the  back  of  an  old  envelope;  the 
glance  of  his  eyes  clear,  cold,  business-like;  the  tones  of 
his  voice  firm,  strong,  inspiring,  in  striking  contrast  to 
Seton  whom  the  events  of  the  afternoon  had  left  listless 
and  depressed. 

Seton  was  bolstering  himself  up  with  strong  coffee, 
but  Dalton  was  drinking  only  milk,  and  as  he  finished 
his  instructions  his  friend  regarded  him  curiously. 

"What  time  did  you  get  to  bed  last  night,  John?"  he 
asked  abruptly. 

"I  don't  know;  it  was  after  three  when  I  left  the  Cre- 
dentials Committee." 


THE  LEADER  153 

"Up  at  six  as  usual,  I  suppose?" 

Dalton  nodded. 

"When  do  you  expect  to  get  to  bed  to-night?" 

"Not  at  all,"  answered  John  promptly.  "But  why 
this  catechism?" 

"Well,  I  was  wondering  what  stuff  you  were  made  of, 
and  how  you  expect  to  keep  awake  without  coffee." 

'  'Keep  awake ! "  and  John  laughed.  "No  trouble  about 
that;  I'll  have  enough  to  keep  me  awake  to-night  I  fancy. 
Jim  Burton  will  look  out  for  that.  The  trouble  will  be  to 
get  to  sleep  if  I  should  happen  to  have  a  chance  to  try. 
But  come  on,  Frank — "  rising  and  brushing  the  crumbs 
from  his  coat  as  he  spoke — "I'm  off  for  the  field  and  the 
biggest  fight  of  my  life." 

He  looked  up  a  moment,  and  laid  his  hand  on  his 
friend's  arm. 

"Frank,"  he  said,  "I'll  be  honest  with  you  now — I 
wasn't  quite  honest  a  while  ago.  You  were  right — a 
new  scheme  did  flash  into  my  mind  while  they  were  call- 
ing the  roll  of  delegations.  I  was  tempted  to  only  half 
fight  it  out  in  the  Committee  to-night,  and  if  I  lost  my 
trust  plank,  bring  in  a  minority  report  before  the  con- 
vention to-morrow.  Do  you  realize  what  that  would 
mean?" 

Frank  started  as  if  an  electric  current  had  passed  from 
Dalton's  arm  to  his.  He  was  wide  enough  awake  now; 
listlessness  and  dejection  were  all  gone. 

"Do  I  realize  what  it  would  mean!  By  heavens,  John, 
it  would  mean  your  nomination!  You  would  carry  the 
convention  by  storm!  You  would  sweep  them  off  their 


154  THE  LEADER 

feet  as  you  swept  them  four  years  ago.  A  temptation! 
It  was  an  inspiration!  Why,  man,  the  day  is  ours!" 

Seton  had  been  speaking  from  necessity  in  suppressed 
tones,  but  with  such  vehemence  that  he  had  all  the  effect 
of  shouting  out  his  words. 

But  Dalton  shook  his  head: 

"No,  Frank,  the  day  is  no  nearer  ours  than  it  was  at 
the  roll-call  of  delegations.  Vm  going  to  get  that  trust 
plank  into  the  platform  to-night.  It  was  no  inspiration — 
it  was  a  temptation — but  I've  conquered  it.  I  shall 
sacrifice  everything  but  the  right,  for  the  sake  of  har- 
mony." 

"Of  course,"  he  added  grimly,  as  the  waiter  came  up 
with  their  hats  and  to  get  the  tip  which  he  didn't  deserve 
for  his  poor  service,  "if  they're  too  much  for  me — if  I 
fail — I  shall  still  have  that  card  to  play." 


CHAPTER  XII. 
A  GOOD  NIGHT'S  WORK. 

The  night  had  been  a  long,  hot  one,  with  scarcely  a 
breath  of  air  stirring,  and  its  ravages  were  plainly  visible 
in  the  demoralized  air  of  the  Committee  on  Resolutions. 

Around  the  great  table  under  the  hot  glare  of  the  elec- 
tric lights,  sat  men  in  every  degree  of  dishevelment. 
Coats  had  been  universally  discarded  early  in  the  evening 
and  with  many  of  the  committee,  collars  and  neckties 
had  not  been  long  in  following  the  coats.  A  few  who 
suffered  most  from  the  sultry  air  had  loosened  their 
shirts  at  the  throat,  and  were  even  then  gasping  for 
breath  and  seeking  relief  in  the  vigorous  use  of  palm 
leaves.  The  air  was  thick  with  tobacco  smoke,  and  by 
the  elbow  of  nearly  every  man  there  sat  a  beer  mug  or  a 
high-ball  glass.  Eyes  burned  redly  under  shocks  of 
touseled  hair,  and  the  beard  on  many  a  face  was  showing 
black  or  red,  as  the  case  might  be,  and  grizzly  as  a  week 
old  growth.  The  table  was  piled  high  with  papers  in 
picturesque  confusion,  and  the  floor  was  littered  with 
the  torn  scraps  of  rejected  resolutions  or  of  impotent 
efforts  at  framing  one. 

It  had  been  a  long,  hard  fight,  and  now  that  the  night 
was  waning,  it  was  beginning  to  tell  even  on  Dalton's 
iron  frame.  Not  on  his  iron  will,  however.  The  pallor 
of  his  face,  and  dark  circles  under  his  eyes  showed  the 
effect  of  heat  and  fatigue,  but  the  eyes  themselves  were 
as  undaunted  as  ever.  Step  by  step  he  had  fought  his 


156  THE  LEADER 

way  all  through  that  long  night,  steadily  gaining  strength 
for  the  final  supreme  effort.  Most  of  the  points  for  which 
he  had  fought,  he  had  won.  Those  he  had  lost  had  been 
relinquished  voluntarily  for  the  sake  of  harmony — will- 
ing to  concede  a  point  that  did  not  seem  vital  in  order  to 
bring  more  power  to  bear  on  the  vital  ones. 

Jim  Burton  and  he  had  faced  each  other  all  night  on 
opposite  sides  of  the  table.  They  two,  almost  alone  of 
that  room  full  of  men,  had  not  resorted  to  the  stimulus 
of  high-ball  or  cock-tail  to  keep  them  awake  or  give  them 
an  adventitious  brilliance.  Each  was  conscious  that 
he  needed  every  faculty  clear  and  undimmed  to  watch 
the  other,  and  both  were  under  a  stronger  stimulant  than 
any  artificial  one  could  be. 

But  steadily  as  Dalton  had  been  gaining,  so  steadily 
Jim  Burton  had  been  losing.  He  had  learned  in  this 
committee  room  that  the  machine  might  control  the 
nomination,  but  it  would  not  fashion  the  platform.  The 
platform  was  Dalton's. 

Yes,  and  the  members  of  the  committee  were  Dalton's. 
Burton  was  ready  to  swear  that  Dalton  owned  them  body 
and  soul  as  he  saw  them,  on  every  contested  point,  swing 
over  to  his  side  at  the  magic  of  his  voice  and  the  fire  of 
his  oratory. 

But  the  moment  had  arrived  when  Burton  was  willing 
to  yield  no  more.  It  should  be  a  fight  to  the  finish  on 
Dalton's  trust  plank.  Indeed,  it  was  a  point  on  which 
he  felt  he  could  not  yield.  It  meant  too  much  in  his 
section  of  the  country.  Introduce  that  plank  into  the 
platform,  and  his  state  was  lost  to  the  party  almost  with- 


THE  LEADER  157 

out  doubt;  and  his  state  meant  the  largest  electoral  vote 
in  the  college. 

Nor  did  he  believe  Berkeley  would  consent  to-  run  on 
any  such  platform;  and  should  he  go  back  to  the  East 
with  the  record  of  having  permitted  such  an  egregious 
blunder,  his  prestige  would  be  gone.  It  would  be  humil- 
iating enough  to  plead  the  overwhelming  influence  of 
Dalton,  but,  worse  than  that,  those  of  his  party  at  home 
who  had  not  been  witness  to  Dalton's  almost  supernat- 
ural sway  over  the  hearts  and  minds  of  men,  would  hard- 
ly believe  him,  and  would  suspect  him  of  treachery. 

It  was  imperative,  therefore,  that  he  should  not  fail, 
and  he  set  himself  like  a  grim  mastiff  to  watch  every 
loop-hole  that  might  give  possible  ingress  to  the  plat- 
form of  the  much  dreaded  anti-trust  resolution. 

For  a  while  he  thought  he  was  going  to  succeed,  for  his 
agents  had  been  diligent  in  their  work  of  cajoling,  brib- 
ing, threatening,  and  his  own  eloquent  plea  to  the  com- 
mittee not  to  let  the  most  powerful  state  in  the  Union  be 
lost  to  the  party,  carried  visible  weight,  with  the  South- 
erners at  least.  He  sat  down  amid  the  ringing  plaudits 
of  a  majority  of  the  committee,  flushed  with  triumph 
and  the  assurance  of  success. 

But  Dalton  had  not  been  on  his  feet  two  minutes  be- 
fore Burton's  flush  of  triumph  had  given  way  to  the 
sickly  hue  of  dread.  Pale  with  the  effects  of  the  night's 
work,  and  the  pallor  heightened  by  contrast  with  the 
heavy  masses  of  dark  hair  lying  damp  on  his  forehead, 
Dalton  spoke  calmly  and  logically,  but  with  repressed 
intensity  that  stirred  his  listeners  to  their  souls.  Only 


158  THE  LEADER 

/ 

at  the  very  last  was  there  a  burst  of  that  wonderful  fire 
that  marked  him  the  orator  of  his  day.  In  a  voice  deep 
with  earnestness,  vibrating  with  feeling,  strong,  even 
after  the  fatigues  of  the  night,  he  concluded  his  speech : 

"You  are  making  a  platform  to  catch  contributions 
from  the  great  corporations — we  should  make  a  platform 
to  get  votes  from  the  masses  of  the  people.  Remember 
that  we  shall  have  other  campaigns  after  this  one!  We 
have  been  fighting  for  the  people;  let  us  continue  to  fight 
for  them!" 

Jim  Burton  could  see  that  the  men  who  had  applauded 
him  to  the  echo  were  weakening,  and  he  held  himself 
alert,  ready  to  spring  to  his  feet  the  moment  Dalton 
should  sit  down. 

But  he  was  not  quick  enough — a  younger  man,  was  a 
moment  ahead  of  him.  With  evident  reluctance  the 
chairman  recognized  the  Honorable  Joseph  Hall,  a  name 
that  had  won  national  and  international  fame  in  the  last 
two  years  for  its  owner  in  his  great  fight  against 
municipal  corruption. 

Very  rapidly,  with  an  incisiveness  characteristic  of  the 
man,  he  summed  up  Dalton's  arguments.  Then  he 
paused  a  moment,  and  turning  to  Jim  Burton  he  lifted 
a  warning  finger  and  shook  it  with  a  vehemence  that 
made  even  that  seasoned  veteran  quail;  for  he  saw  that 
here  was  an  indictment  imminent,  and  when  had  the  Hon- 
orable Joseph  Hall's  indictments  ever  been  known  to  fail 
in  securing  justice. 

"Mr.  Chairman,"  he  said,  but  still  with  that  warning  fin- 
ger raised  toward  Jim  Burton,  so  that  he  had  all  the  effect 


THE  LEADER  159 

of  addressing  him  alone,  "Mr.  Chairman,  the  Wise  Men 
of  the  East  have  done  a  foolish  thing  in  antagonizing  Mr. 
Dalton's  trust  plank.  Let  them  keep  up  their  fight 
against  it!  Let  them  force  Mr.  Dalton  into  a  corner,  as 
they  are  compassing  heaven  and  earth  to  do !  It  is  what 
Mr.  Dalton's  most  ardent  supporters  are  heartily  praying 
for.  What  will  be  the  result?  To-morrow  Mr.  Dalton 
will  carry  a  minority  report  into  the  convention,  and  you 
know  what  will  follow!  Let  him  but  utter  on  the  platform 
of  the  convention  the  ringing  words  he  has  uttered  here 
in  behalf  of  his  brothers  of  the  plow  and  workshop,  and 
there  will  be  such  a  landslide  towards  his  banner  that  the 
convention  will  forget  that  they  had  ever  considered  the 
name  of  Berkeley. 

"Why  do  I  get  up  here,  if  I  am  a  friend  of  Dalton's, 
and  expose  the  situation  to  you,  when  by  letting  it  slide 
unnoticed  I  might  secure  my  friend's  nomination?  / 
am  here  at  Dalton's  request.  He  has  asked  me — if  I 
should  think  the  seriousness  of  the  danger  demanded  it, 
if  failure  of  the  resolution  looked  imminent,  or  possible — 
to  tell  you  what  the  result  of  failure  would  be.  And  this 
in  no  spirit  of  threatening,  but  that  you  might  be  honor- 
ably warned.  A  moment  ago  he  gave  me  the  signal  that 
meant,  "The  time  has  come,"  and  I  am  saying  to  you  the 
words  that  will  probably  defeat  the  dearest  wish  of  my 
heart — the  nomination  of  John  Dalton  for  the  Presiden- 
cy. You  ask  me  why  Dalton  is  so  insane  as  thus  to  defeat 
himself?  I  answer  that  in  the  opinion  of  some  of  his 
friends  it  is  because  he  is  quixote,  but  most  of  us  know, 
that  it  is  because  he  is  built  in  that  large  and  noble 


160  THE  LEADER 

mould  that  puts  the  right  before  everything,  and  he  be- 
lieves that  the  party  should  stand  upon  this  trust  plank 
which  gives  equal  rights  to  the  low  and  the  high,  the  rich 
and  the  poor.  And,  also,  proud  and  glad  as  I  know  he 
would  be  to  bear  the  standard  of  the  party  he  has  loved 
all  his  life,  there  is  something  dearer  to  him  than  his  own 
personal  gratification — it  is  the  harmony  of  that  loved 
party.  If,  as  his  friends  believe,  by  bringing  in  that 
minority  report  to-morrow  he  should  rend  the  party  in 
twain,  even  though  by  far  the  larger  half  should  flock  to 
his  standard,  no  personal  gain  could  make  amends  to 
him  for  the  disunion  of  his  party. 

"Mr.  Chairman," — and  once  more  that  long  fore- 
finger was  shaken  almost  in  Jim  Burton's  face,  and  if  it 
were  possible  to  Jim  Burton  to  cower  he  would  have 
cowered  beneath  the  speaker's  piercing  glance — "the 
day  this  convention  opened,  all  the  forces  of  the  machine 
were  arrayed  against  John  Dalton.  So  thoroughly  were 
they  organized  that  they  supposed  they  had  completely 
and  finally  routed  him.  They  believed  him  to  be  utterly 
discredited  with  the  party.  So  well  had  they  done  their 
work,  that  on  all  sides  fair-weather  friends  were  hasten- 
ing to  disown  him,  and  were  trying  to  make  themselves 
strong  with  the  machine  and  obliterate  any  past  records 
of  tramping  after  his  banner,  by  telling  damning  stories 
of  him:  any  low,  mean,  small,  lying  gossip  they  could 
scoop  up  from  the  gutter,  they  were  eager  to  dish  out 
in  long-handled  ladles. 

"When  he  entered  the  convention  yesterday,  so  com- 
pletely was  the  convention  dominated  by  the  machine, 


THE  LEADER  161 

and  so  marked  were  the  cold  and  averted  looks  of  the 
party  leaders,  that  even  those  who  were  warmly  and 
loyally  his  friends  hardly  dared  to  raise  their  voices  to 
welcome  him.  It  is  true  that  he  received  a  greater  wel- 
come than  any  other  man  who  entered  that  hall,  but  it 
was  nothing  to  what  John  Dalton  has  heretofore  re- 
ceived and  has  a  right  to  expect  from  the  hearts  of  his 
comrades  in  the  old  party. 

"But,  Mr.  Chairman — "  and  this  time  the  speaker's 
glance  left  Jim  Burton  for  a  moment  and  swept  the  room 
triumphantly — "The  party  leaders  may  have  thought 
they  had  buried  John  Dalton  under  the  whole  crushing 
weight  of  the  machine,  but  from  the  moment  he  entered 
that  hall  on  Wednesday  he  has  moved  steadily  forward 
in  gaining  prestige,  until  when  he  entered  the  same  hall 
to-day,  there  was  such  a  frantic  display  of  almost  idola- 
trous love  and  admiration  as  the  world  has  seldom  seen. 

"Who  listens  to  any  one  speaking  on  the  platform! 
Even  the  great  party  leaders  themselves  can  scarcely  be 
heard  ten  feet  away,  such  is  the  confusion  of  many 
sounds.  But  the  moment  John  Dalton  is  on  his  feet, 
there  is  an  instant  hush,  and  he  can  easily  he  heard  in  all 
parts  of  that  vast  building.  I  tell  you,  sirs, 'if  we  of  the 
West  yield  the  nomination  to  you  of  the  East — and  we 
are  not  yet  at  all  sure  that  we  will  so  yield  it — it  will  only 
be  because  in  the  opinion  of  the  party  leaders  an  eastern 
man  will  be  more  sure  of  election.  But,  if  we  should 
finally  yield  you  the  nomination — and  I  say  once  more 
that  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  we  will — it  is  all  that  we 
will  yield  you.  In  everything  else  we  are  for  Dalton. 


162  THE  LEADER 

As  he  thinks,  we  think;  as  he  acts,  we  act;  where  he  leads, 
we  are  proud  to  follow!" 

Keen,  incisive  of  speech,  his  dark  eyes  flashing,  his 
figure  swaying  with  the  intensity  of  his  emotion,  the 
Honorable  Joseph  Hall  had  been  listened  to  breathlessly. 
But  the  moment  he  ceased  speaking  the  room  was  in  an 
uproar.  The  discomforts  of  heat  and  fatigue  had  long 
been  forgotten.  Men  were  on  their  feet  shouting — 
"Give  us  the  trust  plank!"  "Give  us  Dalton's  plank!" 
and  one  or  two  had  taken  up  the  rythmical  cry  of  the 
galleries — "Dalton  Dalton!  Give  us  Dalton!" 

Under  cover  of  the  confusion,  Jim  Burton  conferred 
hastily  with  his  henchmen,  and  when,  a  few  minutes 
later,  the  chairman  had  succeeded  in  restoring  order 
sufficiently  to  put  the  question,  it  was  discovered  that 
Jim  Burton  and  his  followers  had  withdrawn  their  oppo- 
sition, and  the  resolution  was  passed  almost  unanimously. 
They  were  wise  enough  to  say — Better  a  defeat  in  the 
committee-room  than  in  the  convention. 

Dalton,  feeling  that  he  had  indeed  won  a  great  victory — • 
the  one  on  which  he  had  concentrated  his  energies  and 
his  desires — withdrew  from  the  table,  when  the  tumult 
of  congratulations  was  over,  and  sought  a  seat  by  an  open 
window  for  a  moment's  rest,  and  to  collect  his  somewhat 
scattered  mental  forces  for  a  renewal  of  the  conflict.  The 
struggle  was  not  ended.  There  were  yet  long  hours  of 
work  before  him  when  point  after  point  would  have  to 
be  fought  for  doubtless,  but  the  worst  was  over  and  he 
could  take  time  to  breathe. 
The  grey  of  the  dawn  was  in  the  sky.  The  morning 


THE  LEADER  163 

star  shone  down  into  his  window  with  a  quiet  radiance. 
From  some  garden  or  park  near  by,  came  the  soft  twit- 
tering of  birds  just  stirring  in  their  nests.  The  sultriness 
of  the  night  had  given  place  to  the  cool  little  breeze  that 
always  precedes  the  rising  of  the  sun — and  on  the  wings 
of  the  morning  came  peace,  and  joy,  and  love  into  his  soul. 

Yes,  he  recognized  it  with  a  great  throb  of  his  heart — 
it  had  come  at  last !  The  strange,  sweet  experience  that 
so  far  his  life  had  missed,  and  that  he  had  vaguely  longed 
for,  was  his  in  overwhelming  measure.  With  the  blare 
of  men's  voices,  and  the  glare  of  electric  lights,  and  the 
stale  odors  of  tobacco  and  liquor  only  a  few  feet  from 
him,  he  saw  only  the  soft  radiance  of  the  star,  he  heard 
only  the  gentle  murmur  of  the  birds  in  their  nests,  and 
only  the  fragrance  of  the  earth  under  the  heavy  dews  of 
a  summer  night  was  in  his  nostrils.  He  was  alone  with 
his  heart  and  its  new  sweet  knowledge. 

What  had  revealed  it  to  him  so  suddenly!  He  would 
have  supposed  that  all  his  thoughts  were  absorbed  by 
the  struggle  he  had  just  been  through,  and  here,  in  a 
lightning  flash,  all  that  was  obliterated  and  his  whole 
soul  rilled  with  but  one  longing  cry — "Margaret!" 

Miles  away  in  the  western  part  of  the  city  she  was 
lying  asleep,  and  his  thoughts  hovered  broodingly,  ten- 
derly, and  adoringly  about  her,  in  the  sweet  and  dainty 
peace  of  her  surroundings  so  strongly  contrasted  with 
the  storm  and  disorder  and  unrest  of  his.  His  soul, 
made  superstitious  by  love,  attributed  his  victory  to  her. 
She  was  his  morning  star! 

For  the  first  time  he  definitely  acknowledged  to  him- 


164  THE  LEADER 

self  a  determination,  should  victory  once  more  perch 
upon  his  banners  and  bring  him  the  nomination,  to  lay 
all  his  honors  at  her  feet.  And  more  than  that,  whereas 
up  to  this  moment  he  had  been  hesitating  about  the 
nomination,  for  her  sake  he  now  fully  decided  to  make  a 
desperate  fight  to  win  it.  And  with  such  strength  and 
confidence  did  this  love  inspire  him,  that  what  had 
seemed  to  him  hopeless  a  few  moments  before,  appeared 
now  as  easily  possible. 

With  his  whole  soul  pulsating  and  throbbing  with  these 
new  desires  and  purposes,  the  din  of  the  room  behind  him 
seemed  miles  away,  and  he  started,  as  one  from  sleep, 
when  a  hand  was  laid  on  his  shoulder.  But  in  a  moment 
he  had  gathered  his  faculties  together  and  turned  with 
ready  hand  and  smile  to  greet  the  newcomer. 

"Come,"  said  the  Honorable  Joseph  Hall,  "we  can't 
get  on  without  you." 

Dalton  rose  and  shook  himself,  and  turned  to  plunge 
once  more  into  the  strife  that  had  suddenly  become 
fraught  with  new  purpose  to  him.  But  he  stopped  a 
moment  first,  to  say,  with  such  earnestness  of  feeling  as 
set  the  other  man's  pulses  to  tingling  and  his  eyes  to 
glowing — for  no  man  could  lightly  esteem  such  words 
from  such  a  man — 

"Joe,  you  saved  the  situation.  There's  another  star 
in  your  crown.  If  we  have  done  a  good  deed  by  getting 
that  resolution  into  the  platform,  the  glory  of  the  victory 
is  yours."  And  then  he  laid  his  arm  affectionately  over 
his  shoulder  and  added  almost  solemnly : 

"When  the  time  comes,  Joe,  for  me  to  lay  the  mantle 


THE  LEADER  165 

down,  I'm  glad  I  will  have  such  a  strong  young  Elisha 
to  pick  it  up  and  wear  it  more  worthily  than  I  have 
worn  it." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN  THE   EARLY  DAWN. 

Margaret  left  the  convention  hall  not  very  much  in  the 
mood  for  a  party  that  had  been  planned  for  the  evening  to 
entertain  some  out  of  town  friends :  a  dinner  at  The  Alps, 
where  they  lingered  long  to  listen  to  the  music  and  fan- 
cied themselves  in  Switzerland,  so  life-like  were  the 
mountain  peaks  in  the  moonlight;  a  stroll  down  the  Pike, 
whose  glittering  palaces  and  gay  throngs  dazzled  and 
delighted  the  country  friends;  then  across  the  Plaza  to 
see  the  cascades  illuminated,  and  home  through  the 
park  by  moonlight  in  their  motor  cars. 

Half  past  eleven  found  her  in  her  room  more  worn  out 
than  she  had  often  been  from  arduous  social  functions, 
and  her  head  had  hardly  touched  her  pillow  until  the 
dreamless  sleep  of  exhaustion  visited  her.  Five  hours 
later,  she  opened  her  eyes  with  a  start  and  the  feeling 
that  some  one  had  called  her  name.  She  listened  for  a 
while,  her  heart  beating  fast,  but  there  was  no  sound  of 
any  voice  and  she  concluded  the  rays  from  the  morning 
star,  shining  in  at  her  window,  had  touched  her  eyelids 
and  roused  her  from  sleep. 

She  had  been  afraid  at  first,  alone  in  the  dark  and  that 
strange  dream  cry  ringing  in  her  ears,  but  she  saw  the 
morning  was  beginning  to  break  and  the  faint  streaks  of 
light  in  the  east,  momentarily  growing  brighter,  com- 
forted her.  Soon  it  would  be  broad  day  and  if  any  evil 


THE  LEADER  167 

was  lurking  near  it  would  flee  away  at  the  approach  of 
the  sun. 

But  sleep  had  fled  from  her  eyelids.  Her  heart  was 
no  longer  beating  with  fear,  and  as  calm  and  a  sense  of 
security  returned  to  her  with  the  growing  light,  she  began 
to  review  the  events  of  the  last  two  days.  It  was  almost 
the  first  moment  she  had  had  for  quiet  thinking,  since 
either  there  had  been  others  present  to  claim  her  atten- 
tion or  she  had  been  too  weary  for  thought.  Now  she 
tried  very  calmly  to  think  over  her  relations  to  Hugh. 
Both  Hugh's  attitude  and  her  brother's  had  made  her 
feel  that  she  had  given  more  of  a  promise  for  the  future 
than  she  had  intended,  and  already  the  chains  were  be- 
ginning to  gall  her. 

She  was  trying  now  to  set  before  herself  the  reasons 
why  the  desire  of  her  brother's  heart  and  Hugh's  should 
be  hers  also.  She  was  deliberately  recalling  every  sweet 
and  manly  characteristic  in  Hugh  that  had  long  ago  won 
her  warm  affection,  and  reviewing  in  memory  the  many 
happy  days  they  had  spent'  together  in  other  summers. 
Perhaps  she  was  mistaken  in  expecting  in  herself  any 
more  stirring  emotion.  Perhaps  she  was  capable  of 
nothing  stronger  than  this  sweet  and  friendly  regard  she 
had  always  felt  for  Hugh.  No  doubt  it  was  the  very 
safest  foundation  on  which  to  build  her  hopes  of  happi- 
ness, and  no  doubt,  too,  it  was  what  many  people  called 
love,  only  she  had  been  foolishly  looking  for  something 
less  placid.  Very  likely  she  was  too  old  to  feel  those 
transports  of  which  she  had  read  and  heard — and  then, 
in  the  very  midst  of  her  philosophizing,  she  sighed. 


168  THE  LEADER 

With  the  sigh  vanished  every  thought  of  Hugh,  and 
as  in  a  flash  of  light  she  saw  a  strong  man,  his  noble  head 
thrown  back,  listening  with  an  illumined  face  that  re- 
vealed the  soul's  exaltation  to  the  thousands  frantically 
shouting  his  name.  She  saw  him  standing  on  the  plat- 
form pleading  for  justice  and  swaying  men's  minds  at 
his  will.  She  saw  his  pallor,  and  heard  the  vibrations 
of  his  tones  that  meant  overwhelming  disappointment 
as  he  called  for  the  roll-call  of  delegations.  Last  of  all, 
she  saw  him  in  her  box  with  his  winning  smile,  half  play- 
ful, half  timid,  and  at  every  new  view  of  him  her  heart 
responded  with  a  throb  of  exultation  or  of  pity  that  had 
nothing  of  the  placidity  with  which  she  had  been  review- 
ing her  relations  to  Hugh. 

Then  she  recalled  that  Mr.  Seton  had  told  her  that 
without  doubt  Mr.  Dalton  would  be  at  work  all  night  in 
the  Committee  on  Resolutions.  Very  likely  he  was  at 
this  moment  working  hard  in  the  hot  and  close  down- 
town section  of  the  city,  and  he  had  been  working  all 
through  the  long  hours  tha£  she  had  been  sleeping.  He 
had  asked  her  in  a  spirit  of  half  jest — Margaret  had  rec- 
ognized that  it  was  also  half  earnest — to  be  mascot  for 
that  anti-trust  resolution.  What  were  the  duties  of  a 
mascot,  she  wondered — were  they  to  lie  in  sleep  while 
some  one  else  toiled?  She  supposed  that  he  only  meant 
that  he  wanted  her  wishes  for  the  success  of  the  resolu- 
tion. Well,  he  should  have  them,  and  she  resolutely  set 
herself  to  work  to  think  of  it,  as  if  by  some  juggling  pro- 
cess of  "absent  treatment"  she  could  compel  success 
for  it. 


THE  LEADER  169 

But  in  the  very  act  of  concentrating  her  thoughts  upon 
the  resolution,  she  found  herself  dreaming  of  the  man 
who  was  its  author,  and  she  checked  herself  quickly  with 
a  guilty  feeling  of  treason  to  Hugh.  Then  she  began  to 
chafe.  Why  should  she  not  be  free  to  think  of  any  man 
if  she  liked?  Why  had  she  bound  herself  so  needlessly? 
She  was  happier  with  her  freedom;  and  she  began  to  long 
for  it  with  a  sort  of  desperation,  as  if  she  had  already 
taken  the  irrevocable  step  and  discovered  too  late  that  it 
was  all  a  hideous  mistake.  She  tossed  upon  her  pillow 
with  burning  cheeks,  and  little,  fretful  sighs  and  moans 
of  self  pity.  Then,  with  a  sudden  keen  sense  of  relief, 
she  remembered  it  was  not  too  late.  She  sprang  from 
her  bed,  threw  a  light  silk  gown  around  her  and  sat  down 
at  her  desk.  The  morning  star  had  paled,  the  east 
was  all  a  glow  of  rose — bright  color  of  hope — and  it 
flooded  the  room  and  enveloped  her,  as  she  sat  at  her 
desk  and  wrote  with  feverish  haste : 

"DearHugh — It  was  all  a  mistake  the  other  afternoon. 
We  will  be  the  same  dear  friends  we  have  always  been, 
but  don't  ask  me  that  question  any  more.  It  was  all  be- 
cause of  a  foolish  longing  I  had  that  day  to  be  young 
again.  But  I  don't  want  to  be  young  any  more.  I 
don't  want  to  be  different  in  any  way,  and  I  don't  want 
you  to  be  different.  I  want  you  to  be  always  my  dear 
old  Hugh,  and  I  will  always  be — 

Your  devoted  friend  Margaret." 

She  folded  her  note,  put  it  in  an  envelope,  sealed  and 
directed  it.  Then  she  rose  and  went  to  her  eastern  win- 
dow and  stood  a  long  while  looking  out  at  the  miracle  of 


170  THE  LEADER 

the  birth  of  a  new  day.  She  was  conscious  of  a  great 
load  lifted  from  her  heart  and  a  wonderful  gladness  rush- 
ing in  to  take  its  place:  a  gladness,  tempered  but  not 
wholly  saddened  by  a  keen  pang  for  Hugh's  hurt  when  he 
should  read  her  note. 

She  drew  down  the  dark  shades  to  shut  out  the  sun 
flooding  the  world  with  his  shining,  and  went  slowly  back 
to  bed.  Outside,  in  the  green  tree-tops,  song  sparrows 
and  thrushes  were  singing  delirious  aves  to  the  radiant 
morning;  she  turned  her  face  on  her  pillow  and  with  a 
soft  sigh  of  content,  fell  into  peaceful  sleep  and  happy 
dreams. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

PEYTON   MAKES   A   MISTAKE. 

Margaret  little  thought  when,  with  a  policeman  in  front 
of  her  and  Hugh  and  her  brother  on  either  side,  she 
wedged  her  way  through  the  raging  mob  trying  to  force 
an  entrance  to  the  convention  hall,  that  before  she  came 
out  of  those  doors,  the  sun,  that  was  now  low  in  the  west- 
ern sky,  would  have  dipped  below  the  western  seas, 
rolled  majestically  over  the  lands  on  the  other  side  of  the 
globe,  and  be  serenely  shining  in  the  east.  Still  Jess  did 
she  realize  that  the  hours  lying  just  before  her  were  big 
with  the  fate  of  a  party,  big  with  the  fate  of  a  man  who 
had  been  persistently  in  her  thoughts  all  day,  big,  per- 
haps, with  her  own  fate. 

No  man  could  have  taken  a  mortal  hurt  better  than 
Hugh  had  taken  his.  Margaret's  note  had  been  sent 
across  to  his  sister's  house,  where  she  knew  he  was  stay- 
ing, and  he  received  it  as  he  was  going  out  after  break- 
fast. Recognizing  the  writing,  he  had  gone  back  into 
the  house  to  open  it,  stepping  into  a  little  reception-room 
at  the  side  for  better  light.  He  could  hardly  have  found 
a  more  retired  spot  in  which  to  meet  and  wrestle  with  a 
great  sorrow,  for,  since  it  was  used  only  for  receiving 
formal  callers,  it  was  the  room  least  likely  to  be  entered 
by  any  member  of  the  household.  He  had  not  been  en- 
tirely unprepared  for  it.  Something  in  Margaret's  man- 
ner, since  her  return  to  the  city,  had  aroused  in  him 


172  THE  LEADER 

vague  fears;  but  the  blow  was  no  less  crushing  that  it 
was  not  wholly  unexpected.  For  the  first  time  in  these 
ten  years  he  felt  that  the  answer  was  final;  and  the  hope 
that  had  by  turns,  through  all  these  long  years,  flickered 
and  flamed,  must  now  be  extinguished  forever. 

For  a  long  time  he  sat  there  fighting  desperately  to 
save  some  remnant  of  his  happiness.  Then,  feeling  that 
he  must  get  away  where  no  one  who  knew  him  could  see 
him,  he  called  up  to  his  sister  that  he  had  decided  to  ride 
out  to  Kentwick,  and  going  out  to  the  stables  he  saddled 
Selim  himself.  It  had  been  for  a  ride  in  the  park  with 
Margaret  that  afternoon  that  he  had  ordered  Selim 
brought  to  the  city  the  day  before,  but  there  was  no  re- 
membrance of  his  engagement  in  his  mind  as  he  threw 
the  saddle  over  Selim's  back  and  tightened  straps  and 
buckles  with  feverish  haste.  Selim,  knowing  he  was  on 
the  homeward  way,  flew  over  the  familiar  road,  and  the 
faster  he  went  the  more  Hugh  urged  him,  as  if  by  swift- 
er motion  he  could  flee  from  the  sorrow  that  but  sat 
the  more  securely  at  his  back,  sardonically  grinning  at 
his  futile  efforts. 

All  the  morning  Hugh  wandered  over  the  plantation 
from  one  familiar  spot  to  another,  restlessly  seeking  some 
help  for  his  hurt,  and  resolutely  turning  his  face  from 
the  wooded  crests  opposite  where  the  chimneys  of  Beau- 
voir  showed  among  the  trees.  But  let  a  normal  man  be 
suffering  what  he  may,  a  chop  and  a  mug  of  ale  will  put 
him  in  better  heart  to  bear  his  woes,  and  so  it  happened 
that  after  luncheon  Hugh  took  courage  to  look  over  to 
the  chimneys  of  Beauvoir,  and,  in  looking,  began  to  long 


THE  LEADER  173 

for  the  consoling  presence  of  the  dear  old  lady  within  its 
walls.  Tia  Elisa  had  been  his  comforter  in  many  a  child- 
ish woe,  and  his  heart,  making  a  despairing  outcry  for 
sympathy,  knew  nowhere  else  to  turn.  Not  that  he  had 
any  intention  of  confiding  his  troubles  to  her — they  were 
not  of  a  nature  to  bear  utterance,  nor  was  he  the  man  to 
weakly  tell  them — but  just  to  sit  beside  her  a  little  while 
would,  he  believed,  transfer  some  of  the  peace  of  her 
quiet  spirit  to  his  troubled  one. 

Tia  Elisa  knew,  the  moment  she  saw  her  favorite,  that 
something  had  gone  wrong  with  him,  and  she  divined  it 
had  to  do  with  Margaret.  But  it  was  not  for  her  to  ques- 
tion, and  she  set  to  work  with  all  the  gentle  wiles  of 
which  she  was  past  mistress,  to  beguile  him  from  his 
troubles.  And  so  soothing  was  her  gentle  ripple  of 
country-side  gossip,  and  her  soft  gurgles  of  laughter 
over  some  of  Caesar's  and  Gaston's  extraordinary  doings, 
that  he  gave  quite  a  different  answer  from  any  he  would 
have  supposed  possible  an  hour  earlier,  to  her  suddenly 
propounded  question: 

"Are  you  going  in  town  to  the  convention  this  even- 
ing?" 

"I  hardly  know,"  Hugh  hesitated,  "Perhaps — Can  I 
do  anything  for  you?" 

"Only,  if  you  go  and  it  won't  bother  you,  I  would  like 
to  send  Margaret  a  bunch  of  zinnias  and  marigolds  for 
her  breakfast  table.  My  dear  girl  loves  the  old-fashioned 
garden  flowers  almost  as  much  as  her  old  aunty  does." 

"I  had  not  intended  going,"  said  Hugh  slowly,  "But  I 
am  not  sure  but  I  have  changed  my  mind  since  coming 


174  THE  LEADER 

over  here.  Will  you  let  me  call  Margaret  up?  And  if 
she  would  like  to  have  me  go  with  her,  I  will." 

He  called  up  Margaret  and  asked  her  his  question,  and 
she  answered — 

"Very  much — and  come  to  a  half  past  five  o'clock 
dinner,  Hugh.  Every  one  says  we  must  be  at  the  doors 
early  or  we'll  not  get  in." 

Five  minutes  before  the  hour  he  presented  himself  at 
the  house  in  Devonshire  Place,  bearing  in  his  hands  the 
great  bunch  of  gay  garden  flowers  which  he  had  bravely 
carried  through  the  streets  from  the  car.  The  maid  at 
the  door  relieved  him  of  the  flowers  and  ushered  him  into 
the  cool  library  where  he  awaited  Margaret,  standing 
with  his  back  to  the  western  window,  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  rigidly  erect  in  a  tense  effort  to  keep  himself 
under  control. 

Margaret  came  in  a  moment  later,  and  as  she  hesitated 
an  imperceptible  instant  on  the  threshold,  and  the  golden 
haze  of  the  afternoon  sun,  softened  by  filtering  through 
lace  at  the  windows,  enveloped  her,  bringing  out  into 
high  relief  all  the  lovely  curves  of  cheek  and  throat,  and 
the  gold  of  her  hair  and  the  sapphire  of  her  eyes,  she  had 
never  looked  quite  so  beautiful  to  Hugh's  sorrowful 
gaze.  It  was  only  a  moment  she  hesitated,  and  then  she 
came  quickly  forward,  both  hands  outstretched,  and  her 
eyes  lifted  to  Hugh's  with  an  appeal  for  forgiveness  that 
was  more  than  the  poor  fellow  could  stand. 

"It's  all  right,  Margaret,  it's  all  right,"  he  said  hastily, 
as  he  grasped  her  hands.  But  his  grip  on  them  was 
strong  and  nervous  and  the  voice  with  which  he  spoke 


THE  LEADER  175 

was  not  quite  steady,  and  the  quick  tears  sprang  to  Mar- 
garet's eyes  at  these  signs  of  the  hurt  she  had  given  him. 

"Oh,  say,  now,  Margaret,  I'm  not  worth  it,  you  know, 
I'm  not  worth  it!"  he  muttered  gripping  her  hands  still 
harder,  until  she  winced  with  the  physical  pain.  And 
then,  Peyton  entering  the  room  at  that  moment,  Hugh 
dropped  her  hands  and  greeted  him  with  such  loud  jov- 
iality as  quite  non-plussed  Peyton,  who  had  heretofore 
thought  of  Hugh  as  rather  a  quiet  fellow. 

To  Margaret,  the  joviality  sounded  so  forced  she 
thought  Peyton  must  recognize  it  and  understand.  But 
Peyton  only  feared  he  had  surprised  some  tender  meet- 
ing, and,  the  wish  being  father  to  the  thought,  concluded 
the  matter  was  all  settled  between  Margaret  and  Hugh, 
and  beamed  on  them  both  with  paternal  tenderness  and 
approbation,  while  he  shook  Hugh's  hand  so  cordially 
as  to  have  all  the  effect — Margaret  thought,  and  winced 
to  the  thought — of  offering  congratulations. 

And  this  was  how  it  happened  that,  in  spite  of  Mar- 
garet's note  to  him,  Hugh  was  in  his  old  place  by  her 
side,  helping  Peyton  to  force  a  passage  through  the  mob 
for  her,  while  the  sun,  shining  at  her  back,  was  prepar- 
ing for  his  dip  into  the  western  seas  and  his  rapid  swim 
around  the,  other  hemisphere  to  be  ready,  calmly  shining 
in  the  eastern  skies  to  greet  her  when,  the  eventful 
night  over,  she  should  step  out  from  the  convention  hall 
dazed  by  the  morning  light,  but  far  more  dazed  by  the 
swift  march  of  destiny, 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A   PROMISE   WITH   A   CONDITION. 

They  had  been  sitting  many  hours  in  a  stifling  atmo- 
sphere. The  night  was  far  along,  but  there  was  no 
weariness  in  the  faces  of  any  of  the  thousands  closely 
packed  into  the  vast  hall. 

It  was  the  first  night  session  of  the  convention,  and 
the  glare  of  the  electric  lights  added  to  the  sensation  of 
heat.  More  than  that,  it  was  the  session  that  would, 
without  doubt,  determine  the  candidate  for  the  presi- 
dency, and  the  mob  that  had  filled  the  streets  outside 
for  blocks  around  the  great  building,  had  forced  its  way 
inside,  tickets  or  no  tickets,  until  there  seemed  literally 
no  space  for  another  human  being. 

Dalton  had  come  up  to  their  box  soon  after  the  open- 
ing of  the  convention,  while  the  chairman  of  the  Resolu- 
tions Committee  was  reading  the  platform  in  a  voice  that 
could  not  be  heard  beyond  the  first  few  rows  of  delegates. 
Dalton  had  soon  perceived  that  there  was  no  possibility 
of  Margaret's  getting  even  the  least  idea  of  the  platform 
from  the  reading,  and  he  wanted  her  to  know  about  it. 

He  was  looking  very  worn,  for  it  had  been  noon  before 
the  session  of  the  Resolutions  Committee  was  over,  and 
his  followers,  soon  getting  wind  of  his  victory  in  the  com- 
mittee-room, had  gathered  about  him  at  once  with  re- 
newed hope  and  eager  for  a  more  aggressive  campaign. 

Dalton  himself  was  ready  for  it;  partly  because  his 


THE  LEADER  177 

confidence  in  his  own  powers,  which  had  been  terribly 
shaken  by  his  defeat  in  his  minority  report  for  the  con- 
testing delegates,  was  now  fully  restored  by  his  victory 
over  the  machine  in  the  platform,  and  he  was  even  more 
ready  for  it  because  of  that  sudden  revelation  that  had 
come  to  him  in  the  early  dawn  in  the  crowded  committee- 
room.  As  a  result,  the  afternoon  had  been  spent  in  con- 
ferences with  his  friends,  laying  plans  for  the  work  of  the 
night,  and  he  had  found  no  moment  in  which  to  snatch 
the  long-deferred  and  much-needed  sleep. 

But  if  he  was  looking  worn  and  white,  there  was  an 
air  of  joyful  exhilaration  about  him  that  Margaret  had 
not  heretofore  noticed,  and  it  added  something  bright 
and  strongly  winning  to  the  already  powerful  magnet- 
ism of  his  personality.  Every  one  in  the  box,  with  the 
possible  exception  of  Peyton,  came  under  its  influence  at 
once ;  and  whereas  they  had  been  cordial  before,  their 
cordiality  was  now  intensified  to  a  warm  friendliness. 
They  were  all  there — the  usual  party  of  six;  Julie  and 
Mrs.  Paxton  having  been  escorted  into  the  hall  one  at  a 
time  by  Hugh  and  Peyton  as  Margaret  had  been;  and 
Seton  having  joined  them  just  before  the  chairman's 
gavel  fell  to  announce  the  convention  opened. 

Frank  had  not  delayed  to  tell  them  of  the  great  victory 
in  the  committee,  and  so  Dal  ton  was  for  a  moment  quite 
overwhelmed  with  enthusiastic  congratulations  as  he 
entered  the  box.  Hugh  occupied  a  seat  beside  Mar- 
garet, but  there  was  a  vacant  space  on  the  other  side 
of  her  and  a  vacant  chair  in  another  part  of  the  box, 
and  while  the  three  men  had  instantly  sprung  to  their 


178  THE  LEADER 

feet  and  offered  Dalton  their  seats  on  entering,  he  de- 
clined them  all  and  brought  the  vacant  chair  to  the 
place  he  had  at  once  descried  as  the  one  he  most  de- 
sired. 

No  one  in  the  audience  being  able  to  hear  the  reading, 
the  house  had  naturally  fallen  into  a  murmur  of  talk 
which,  though  individually  and  separately  quiet  enough, 
became  collectively  a  subdued  roar.  A  very  delightful 
roar  indeed,  Dalton  regarded  it,  since  it  set  off  Margaret 
and  himself  as  much  to  themselves  as  if  they  had  been 
alone  in  the  vast  hall. 

"I've  come  up  to  tell  you  about  the  platform,  since 
you  can't  hear  it,"  he  said,  as  he  took  his  seat  beside 
her.  "It's  our  platform,  you  know — yours  and  mine." 

The  radiant  confidence  of  the  man  and  his  manner  of 
taking  possession  of  her — which  though  sufficiently  un- 
obtrusive as  to  call  for  no  comment  from  others,  was  also 
perfectly  palpable  to  herself,  made  Margaret  feel  that 
some  subtle  change  had  taken  place  in  their  relations. 
It  had  been  little  more  than  twenty-four  hours  since  she 
had  seen  him,  but  in  those  hours  of  absence  she  was  con- 
scious that  their  friendship — for  so  she  boldly  called  it — 
had,  in  some  unexplained  way,  made  great  strides.  For 
his  radiant  confidence,  his  air  of  possession,  so  far  from 
offending  her,  met  with  a  quick  response  in  her  exquisite 
smile  of  pleasure  and  comprehension. 

"Is  it  ours?"  she  murmured.  "You  are  very  good  to 
me  to  give  me  a  share  in  it.  But  tell  me  about  it,  please." 

And  so  under  cpver  of  the  subdued  roar  of  voices,  he 
told  her  all  about  his  conflict  of  the  night  before;  espe- 


THE  LEADER-  179 

* 

cially  his  struggles  with  Jim  Burton  and  his  signal  victory. 
And  what  is  more,  he  enjoyed  the  telling  of  it  as  he  had 
seldom  enjoyed  anything  in  his  life.  He  was  not  the 
man  to  boast  of  his  own  triumphs,  nor  even  to  talk  over 
his  own  achievements  and  his  own  experiences.  Opinions, 
views,  plans  for  the  future,  he  was  always  ready  to  discuss, 
but  what  he  had  accomplished  in  the  past  he  had  here- 
tofore left  for  others  to  tell.  Now,  to  his  own  amaze- 
ment if  he  had  stopped  to  think  of  it,  he  was  pouring  out 
his  soul  to  a  woman  he  had  known  scarcely  more  than 
four  days,  and  gleefully  boasting  of  his  triumphs  to  her 
without  a  twinge  of  false  shame.  And,  moreover,  she 
was  receiving  his  confidences  exactly  as  he  bestowed 
them — freely,  openly,  with  delightful  sympathy  and  cor- 
diality as  if  they  belonged  to  her  by  right;  and  with  no 
reserve  of  critical  wonder  as  to  why  he  should  be  telling 
them  to  her. 

But  Dalton,  while  he  had  been  deeply  engrossed  with 
Margaret — his  whole  five  senses  deliciously  submerged 
in  the  intoxicating  atmosphere  that  enveloped  her — had 
yet,  with  his  sixth  sense  been  conscious  of  the  lapse  of 
time,  and  while  he  could  not  hear  even  so  much  as  a 
sound  of  the  reader's  voice,  he  knew  that  he  must  be  near 
the  end  of  his  reading.  It  behooved  him  to  be  in  his  seat 
when  the  end  should  come,  for  who  could  tell  what  dis- 
cussion of  the  most  vital  points  in  the  platform  might  not 
be  suddenly  sprung  upon  them. 

He  explained  this  to  Margaret  as  he  rose  to  go. 

"But  you  will  let  me  come  back,  will  you  not?"  he 
asked,  "when  I  find  I  can  safely  leave  my  post?" 


180  THE  LEADER 

• 
"Just  as  often  as  you  like,"  answered  Margaret.     And 

his  eyes  looking  down  into  hers  caught  there  some  shy 
and  sweet  confession  of  her  pleasure  in  his  visits  that  set 
his  whole  soul  aflame.  It  was  with  difficulty  that  he 
made  his  exit  from  the  box  properly,  in  such  tumult  of 
new  emotions  did  he  find  himself;  and  it  was  well,  per- 
haps, for  the  fate  of  his  resolutions,  that  they  were  ac- 
cepted without  discussion  and  the  platform  unanimously 
adopted  as  a  whole — convincing  proof  of  the  dread  the 
committee  felt  of  permitting  Dalton  to  use  his  silver 
tongue  in  the  convention  as  he  had  used  it  in  the  com- 
mittee-room. 

Not  until  the  first  state  in  the  alphabetical  list  of  states 
had  yielded  its  place  to  the  "Empire  State  of  New  York," 
and  there  had  mounted  the  platform  the  young  New 
Yorker  who  was  to  make  the  speech  that  would  put 
Berkeley  into  nomination,  did  Dalton  at  last  get  himself 
well  under  control.  Then  he  sternly  put  aside  all  softer 
thoughts  and  set  himself  to  follow  with  keenest  and 
most  critical  attention  the  speaker  of  the  moment.  It 
was  one  of  the  few  speeches  he  thought  would  carry 
weight,  and,  therefore,  one  most  to  be  feared  in  this  new 
fight  he  was  making  for  the  nomination.  The  man  who 
was  to  make  the  speech  was  a  new  man  to  Dalton.  He 
had  never  heard  him,  but  fie  had  heard  much  of  him,  as 
a  young  man  of  unusual  brilliance  and  logical  acumen, 
and  his  opening  sentences  convinced  Dalton  that  he  had 
not  been  over-rated.  In  a  moment  his  keen  mind  was 
on  the  alert,  and  with  the  closing  words  of  the  speech: 
"New  York  nominates  for  the  Presidency,  Martin  R. 


THE  LEADER  181 

Berkeley,"  there  was  no  longer  a  thought  in  Dalton's 
mind  of  any  woman  on  earth.  The  image  of  Margaret 
was  as  utterly  effaced  as  if  for  him  she  had  never  existed. 

Berkeley's  name  was  hardly  out  of  the  mouth  of  the 
speaker,  when  as  one  man — looking,  Frank  Seton  said 
to  Margaret  in  the  box,  suspiciously  like  machine  work — 
every  Berkeley  delegate  was  standing  on  the  seat  of  his 
chair  frantically  waving  flags  and  hats  and  banners. 

The  tumult  that  followed  was  like  the  tumult  of  the  day 
before  when  Dalton  had  made  his  entry  into  the  con- 
vention, and  John  sat  listening  to  it,  white  to  his  lips, 
and  for  the  second  time  fully  realizing  the  overwhelming 
power  of  the  machine.  As  the  uproar  kept  on  with  no 
signs  of  abatement,  Dalton  left  his  seat,  and  at  his  glance 
a  half  dozen  others  from  as  many  different  states  fol- 
lowed him  to  a  corner  of  the  lobby  where  they  might  hold 
a  hasty  conference. 

The  plan  of  action  had  been  thoroughly  outlined  in  the 
afternoon,  but  there  was  some  slight  change  that  it 
seemed  to  Dalton  well  to  make.  It  had  been  decided 
that  the  Honorable  Joseph  Hall  should  make  the  nomi- 
nating speech  in  which  Dalton's  name  should  be  presented 
to  the  convention,  and  Dalton's  own  state,  following 
immediately  after  Hall's  in  regular  order,  should  second 
the  nomination.  Dalton  could  not  of  course,  second  his 
own  nomination,  and  he  would,  for  the  time,  relinquish 
his  place  as  leader  to  another  member  of  the  delegation 
who  should  make  the  seconding  speech.  But  his  friends 
insisted,  and  John  himself  believed,  that  Dalton's  words 
would  carry  more  weight  than  any  other  man's,  and  so 


182  THE  LEADER 

it  was  arranged  that  after  the  speech  of  seconding,  Dalton 
himself  should  be  called  for  and  should  make  a  speech — 
not  advocating  his  own  claims,  but  showing  why  Berke- 
ley would  not  be  the  choice  of  the  people,  and  setting 
clearly  before  the  convention  also,  those  principles  which 
he  represented  and  to  which  Berkeley  and  the  machine 
were  unalterably  opposed.  There  was  no  doubt  about 
the  possibility  of  his  being  permitted  to  make  his  speech, 
for  they  well  knew,  let  but  one  or  two  men  call  for  Dalton 
and  in  a  moment  the  whole  house  would  be  in  such  an 
uproar  of  demands  for  him  that  the  chairman  would  be 
compelled  to  grant  him  a  hearing. 

All  this  had  been  arranged  before,  but  the  change 
Dalton  wished  to  make,  was  to  suggest  to  a  state,  the 
last  in  the  alphabetical  list  and  friendly  to  him,  but  who 
must  put  in  nomination  a  "Favorite  Son,"  that  when 
Dalton's  state  should  be  called,  Dalton  should  himself 
rise  and  yield  his  place  to  them,  thus  securing  for  himself 
the  last  hearing  immediately  preceding  the  voting.  The 
wisdom  of  this  arrangement  was  evident,  since  this  would 
give  Dalton  chance  for  a  final  and  powerful  plea  with  no 
one  to  follow  who  could  undo  the  influence  of  his  words  J 
and  the  friendly  state,  having  no  hope  at  all  for  her  own 
candidate,  whom  she  merely  desired  to  compliment,  and 
anxious  to  help  on  Dalton's  cause  in  every  way,  willingly 
consented  to  the  plan. 

It  had  taken  some  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  to  accom- 
plish this,  but  as  the  half  dozen  men  returned  to  the  con- 
vention hall  the  uproar  was  still  at  its  height,  and  Dalton, 
having  done  all  that  could  for  the  moment  be  done  to 


THE  LEADER  183 

further  his  cause,  felt  himself  once  more  at  liberty  to 
seek  Margaret  in  her  box. 

But  if  the  image  of  Margaret  had  for  the  time  been  ob- 
scured in  Dalton's  mind  by  the  stern  exegencies  of  the 
occasion,  the  image  of  Dalton  in  Margaret's  mind  had 
been  every  moment  growing  more  insistent  and  vivid. 
She  had  seen  the  flame  leap  into  his  eyes  as  he  returned 
her  glance,  and  a  spark  from  it  had  set  her  own  emotions 
into  a  conflagration,  not  so  fierce,  perhaps,  as  Dalton's, 
but  very  disturbing  to  her  equable  soul.  There  had  been 
with  her  no  compelling  need  to  quench  the  conflagration 
and  every  incident  that  followed  but  added  fuel  to  the 
flames.  His  broad  shoulders  and  leonine  head  were  in 
direct  line  between  her  and  the  platform,  and  so,  while 
apparently  giving  strict  attention  to  the  speaker,  no  turn 
of  his  head,  not  the  slightest  gesture,  escaped  her. 

She  felt  that  she  could  interpret  them  all,  too;  that  a 
key  had  been  given  her  that  made  his  soul  transparent  to 
her,  and  translating  his  slightest  movement  was  like 
reading  from  an  open  book.  She  thought  she  could  tell 
the  moment  when  his  dreaming  musings  gave  place  to 
stern  attention — and  no  doubt  John  dismissed  them 
with  the  quick  shake  of  his  head  that  was  a  habitual  ges- 
ture with  him  and  that  Margaret  might  easily  have  un- 
derstood. The  uproar  that  broke  forth  at  the  mention 
of  Berkeley's  name  at  the  close  of  the  nominating  speech, 
dismayed  her.  She  had  thought  such  demonstrations 
were  for  Dalton  only,  and  that  another  could  call  them 
forth  unsettled  the  proud  conviction  she  had  been  cher- 
ishing, that  be  the  result  of  the  nominations  what  it 


184  THE  LEADER 

would,  Dalton  alone  held  the  hearts  of  the  people.  Nor 
did  it  reassure  her  much,  that  Mr.  Seton  insisted  it  was 
all  machine  work,  and  most  of  the  shouting  was  done  by 
rooters  hired  for  the  occasion. 

"Look,  Miss  Delauney,"  he  had  said,  "I  hear  you 
wanted  to  know  what  a  rooter  is.  There  is  one  just  be- 
hind you;  no  one  could  mistake  him." 

Margaret  and  Julie  both  looked  back  at  a  man  stand- 
ing on  his  chair  a  few  rows  behind  them,  and  who,  with 
distorted  face  and  mechanical  gestures,  was  in  stentorian 
tones  uttering  at  regular  intervals  his  cry  of  "Berkeley! 
Berkeley!" 

"Ugh!"  Julie  shuddered,  "They're  dreadful  creatures, 
aren't  they?  They  look  like  that  awful  man  in  Verest- 
chagin's  picture  of  Christ  before  Pilate." 

"That  one  does,  certainly,"  answered  Seton,  "But 
there  are  a  lot  of  them  so  respectable  looking  that  you 
couldn't  tell  them  from  the  real  stuff." 

But  even  the  hideous  man  did  not  comfort  Margaret 
much.  No  doubt  some  of  it  was  rooter-work,  but  the 
acclamations  were  too  universal  not  to  be  genuine.  In- 
deed, their  own  box  was  almost  the  only  one  in  the  wide 
circle  of  boxes,  many  of  them  filled  with  people  she  knew, 
that  was  not  frantically  shouting  itself  hoarse. 

She  had  thought  she  could  tell  from  the  rigid  set  of 
John's  shoulders,  just  the  emotions  he  was  experiencing 
at  this  ovation  to  Berkeley;  and  she  was  not  surprised, 
when  he  rose  from  his  seat  and  turned  towards  her  as  he 
started  down  the  aisle  for  the  lobby,  to  see  that  his  face 
was  white  and  stern  and  set. 


THE  LEADER  185 

When  she  saw  on  his  return  from  the  lobby  that  he 
was  coming  towards  her  box,  she  found  herself  in  such  a 
state  of  perturbation  as  was  heretofore  foreign  to  her  ex- 
perience. It  seemed  to  her  that  the  glance  exchanged 
between  them  as  he  left  her  had  been  almost  an  open 
avowal  on  his  part  and  an  acceptance  of  it  on  hers,  and 
it  would  not  be  possible  again  to  meet  him  on  the  simple 
and  frank  terms  of  friendship.  Involuntarily  she  turned 
to  Hugh  for  refuge  and  plunged  precipitately  into  an  ex- 
cited and  disjointed  discussion  with  him  of  rooters,  the 
last  speaker,  Berkeley — anything  that  came  into  her 
mind  at  which  she  could  clutch. 

Dalton's  interval  of  strict  attention  to  business  had 
given  him  a  firmer  grasp  of  himself,  and  while  the  mere 
act  of  turning  towards  Margaret's  box  brought  back  an 
overwhelming  flood  of  emotions  that  had  been  for  a  little 
while  relegated  to  the  background,  he  was  still  able  to 
control  them  and  to  make  his  entrance  into  the  box  as 
easy  and  natural  as  usual.  His  quick  glance  took  in  the 
signs  of  Margaret's  excitement — her  heightened  color,  her 
voice  pitched  at  an  unusual  key,  and  the  feverish  hurry 
of  her  sentences — and  he  did  not  for  a  few  moments  be- 
stow on  her  more  of  his  attention  than  the  general  bow 
and  smile  with  which  he  greeted  the  box.  Instead,  he 
entered  at  once  into  a  lively  discussion  with  Peyton  of 
some  of  the  points  of  the  speech  they  had  just  been 
listening  to.  It  was  with  the  speaker's  criticism  of  the 
administration  that  Peyton  took  special  issue,  naturally, 
since  the  administration  was  of  Peyton's  party.  Natur- 
ally, also,  since  Dalton  was  not  of  the  administration 


186  THE  LEADER 

party,  he  thought  the  points  well  taken. 

"Well,"  said  Peyton  finally,  and  with  the  air  of  saying 
the  last  word,  "I  hope,  Mr.  Dalton,  if  you  have  a  speech 
to  make  you  will  let  the  administration  alone — the  Presi- 
dent anyway — it  strikes  me  as  in  very  poor  taste,  to  say 
the  least." 

"I  don't  think  you  will  have  any  quarrel  with  me  on 
that  score,  Mr.  Le  Beau,"  returned  John  smilingly.  "If 
I  get  a  chance  to  make  a  speech  I  will  have  too  much  to 
find  fault  with  nearer  home;  I  am  a  sort  of  Ishmael  in 
my  own  party,  you  know." 

"An  Ishmael!"  exclaimed  Julie,  hands  and  shoulders 
indicating  child-like  dismay,  "I  thought  it  was  an  Idol! 
Isn't  that  what  you've  been  telling  me,  Mr.  Seton?" 
And  her  appealing  glance  at  Frank  was  quite  irresistible 
to  that  soft-hearted  woman-hater. 

"Oh,  you  mustn't  mind  anything  Mr.  Seton  says,"  said 
John  laughing,  "He's  not  responsible.  No  court  would 
take  his  oath  on  the  witness  stand  where  I'm  concerned  ; 
he's  a  prejudiced  party." 

"Well,  I  certainly  call  that  idolatry,"  said  Julie,  with 
another  fetching  glance  at  Seton,  and  in  the  laugh  that 
followed,  Margaret  and  Hugh  both  joined.  For  Mar- 
garet, as  John  intended,  had  had  time  to  grow  calm 
again,  and  for  the  last  few  minutes  she  and  Hugh  had 
both  been  attentive  listeners  to  the  discussion  between 
Peyton  and  Dalton. 

For  some  time  the  uproar  had  been  abating,  and  now 
quiet  was  so  far  restored  that  the  chairman's  gavel  called 
the  house  to  order,  and  Dalton  dropped  into  his  old  seat 


THE  LEADER  187 

on  the  other  side  of  Margaret,  quite  as  a  matter  of  course, 
Peyton  jealously  noted. 

"I've  come  for  a  long  stay,"  he  said,  smiling  down  on 
Margaret  with  such  frank  friendliness  as  put  her  at  once 
at  her  ease.  "There  will  be  nothing  of  importance  on 
for  a  long  time :  nothing  but  states  putting  favorite  sons 
into  nomination — a  tedious  process,  but  necessary  I 
suppose.  And  in  the  meanwhile,  I  may  as  well  be  up  here 
as  down  there,  where  it  is  very  much  hotter." 

"Not  a  particularly  complimentary  reason  for  seeking 
our  society,  do  you  think,  Hugh?"  said  Margaret,  who 
nervously  desired  to  include  Hugh  in  the  conversation. 

"Not  very  complimentary,  perhaps,"  answered  Hugh, 
"but  an  extremely  good  reason  I  should  think;  for  if  it 
is  any  hotter  down  there  than  it  is  here  I  don't  see  how 
you  have  lived  through  it,  Mr.  Dalton." 

Indeed  the  heat  as  the  night  advanced,  had  been  grow- 
ing insufferable.  Very  few  men  in  the  vast  audience 
were  wearing  coats,  not  one  waistcoats,  and  many  had 
discarded  neckties  and  collars.  The  women,  of  course, 
had  the  advantage  in  their  filmy  dresses  and  were  looking 
cool  and  placid  in  comparison  with  the  suffering  men. 

Dalton,  whether  Margaret  had  been  the  occasion  or 
not,  had  made  such  radical  changes  in  his  dress  as  had 
taken  off  ten  years  in  his  looks.  A  short  coat  of  silk, 
had  taken  the  place  of  the  hot  frock;  a  careless  four-in- 
hand,  light  in  color  and  texture,  had  replaced  the  stiff 
black  tie,  and  a  soft  white  negligee  shirt,  exquisite  for 
fineness  and  workmanship  and  belted  at  the  waist  had 
taken  the  place  of  the  stiff  shirt  front  and.  black  waist- 


188  THE  LEADER 

coat.  The  male  bird  puts  on  his  brightest  plumage  in 
the  spring,  and  the  man  of  our  species  is  no  less  wise 
when  he  sets  out  to  woo.  Dalton  had  also  the  happy 
faculty  of  looking  cool,  no  matter  how  he  might  be  feel- 
ing, and  Margaret  was  grateful  to  him  for  it,  since  poor 
Hugh,  constantly  mopping  his  flushed  face,  had  kept  her 
in  a  very  uncomfortable  state  of  sympathy. 

It  was  as  Dalton  said,  there  was  a  long  succession  of 
nominating  speeches,  some  of  them  bright  and  holding  the 
interest  well,  but  many  of  them  inaudible  at  the  distance 
of  their  box.  None  of  them  were  a  hindrance  to  conver- 
sation, and  while  they  listened  sometimes,  when  they 
could  hear,  the  two  hours  that  Dalton  sat  in  the  box 
were  spent  in  an  almost  uninterrupted  conversation. 
Most  of  it  was  general,  but  there  were  many  opportuni- 
ties for  Dalton  to  say  things  intended  for  Margaret's  ears 
alone,  and  he  was  not  the  man  to  miss  his  opportunities. 
In  that  two  hours  their  acquaintance  with  each  other 
made  such  strides  as  it  might  not  have  made  in  months 
of  ordinary  intercourse.  There  is  no  such  sense  of  seclu- 
sion and  intimacy  as  the  presence  of  a  great  throng  gives, 
and  Margaret  and  Dalton  were  both  exquisitely  alive 
to  it. 

There  had  been  scarcely  one  of  the  speakers  who  had 
not  managed,  in  some  way,  to  bring  in  laudations  of  Dal- 
ton, since  in  this  way,  even  those  who  were  fully  deter- 
mined to  vote  for  Berkeley,  wished  to  gracefully  ac- 
knowledge the  debt  the  party  owed  its  great  leader ;  and 
at  every  mention  of  his  name,  the  galleries  had  broken 
into  wild  applause  and  insistent  calls  for  him.  The 


THE  LEADER  189 

audience  was  not  long  in  discovering  where  he  was  sitting, 
and  naturally,  on  each  occasion  of  the  kind,  they  turned 
to  look  at  him  sitting  beside  Margaret  in  the  box.  At 
first  it  had  been  a  trying  ordeal  for  her,  feeling  the  atten- 
tion of  the  whole  house  directed  to  her  box,  and,  possibly, 
some  of  it  curiously  to  her.  But  Dalton  did  not  seem 
to  think  of  it  in  the  light  of  an  annoyance,  since  he  had 
himself  grown  so  accustomed  to  it,  and  he  responded  only 
with  his  luminous  smile.  But  after  several  out-breaks 
it  did  occur  to  him  that  what  only  gave  him  pleasure  as  a 
token  of  the  popular  feeling,  might  give  annoyance  to 
Miss  Le  Beau;  and  as  the  applause  died  down  and  atten- 
tion was  once  more  directed  to  the  speaker,  he  turned 
to  Margaret. 

"Do  you  mind  my  being  here?  Does  it  make  you  feel 
uncomfortably  conspicuous?"  he  asked  in  a  low  tone. 

Margaret  hesitated  the  fraction  of  a  second,  then  she 
answered  softly: 

"No,  I  believe  it  makes  me  feel  very  proud." 

Dalton  gave  her  a  quick,  grateful  glance,  but  with  it 
there  was  something  much  warmer  than  gratitude,  and 
the  swift  color  in  Margaret's  cheek  answered  his  glance. 

"Do  you  remember,  Miss  Le  Beau,"  said  Dalton  in  the 
same  low  tone,  "the  afternoon  I  met  you  at  Mrs.  Pax- 
ton's  tea?" 

"It  is  not  so  long  ago  that  I  should  have  forgotten," 
answered  Margaret  smilingly,  "It  was  only  last  Monday." 

"Last  Monday!"  exclaimed  Dalton,  "I  thought  it  was 
months  ago.  If  we  were  to  measure  time  by  thoughts 
and  emotions,"  he  added  earnestly,  "it  was  years  ago." 


190  THE  LEADER 

Margaret  did  not  answer.  She  was  painfully  con- 
scious of  the  thousands  of  eyes  about  her,  any  pair  of 
which  might  at  any  moment  fall  upon  her  face,  and  she 
was  striving  to  look  indifferent  and  as  if  they  two  were 
engaged  in  an  ordinary  discussion. 

"But  I  did  not  mean  to  ask/'  Dalton  went  on,  "if  you 
remembered  meeting  me;  but  do  you  remember  the  queer 
speech  I  made  you  at  saying  good-bye?" 

Margaret  remembered  it  perfectly.  It  had  been  per- 
sistent in  returning  to  her  at  all  kinds  of  inopportune 
moments,  but  she  only  replied : 

"Was  it  queer?  And  what  was  it?  Say  it  again, 
please." 

Dalton  felt  the  slightest  shade  of  disappointment  that 
she  had  not  remembered,  but  he  knew  he  had  no  right  to 
expect  that  he  should  have  made  upon  her  the  same 
vivid  impression  she  had  made  upon  him  at  their  first 
meeting;  and  so  he  repeated  it: 

"I  told  you,  you  had  given  me  pleasure  in  two  ways 
that  afternoon,  and  I  promised  to  tell  you  the  second  way 
when  I  should  know  you  better.  Do  you  think  I  know 
you  well  enough  now?" 

"How  can  I  tell?"  Margaret  was  greatly  curious  to 
know  what  it  could  be,  but  something  in  his  manner 
frightened  her,  and  she  would  not  urge  the  telling.  Per- 
haps she  showed  her  fright  a  little. 

"Well,  I  am  not  going  to  tell  you  just  now."  Dalton 
smiled  reassuringly  in  his  paternal  fashion  that  was  al- 
ways particularly  winning  to  Margaret.  "But  I  want 
to  tell  you  something  else.  There  is  a  possibility,  not 


THE  LEADER  191 

much  of  one,  but  a  fighting  chance,  of  my  getting  the 
nomination.  If  I  win  it,  then  I  will  tell  you  the  second 
way." 

"But  if  you  shouldn't  win?  Am  I  never  to  know?" 
Margaret's  eyes  looked  her  dismay. 

Dalton  grew  suddenly  grave  and  there  was  a  moment 
of  silence  before  he  spoke.  Then  he  said,  in  a  voice 
tense  with  repressed  feeling: 

"No,  Miss  Le  Beau,  if  I  lose  the  nomination  you  will 
never  know." 

And  Margaret,  wondering  greatly  what  it  could  have 
been  that  gave  him  pleasure  that  afternoon  of  their  first 
meeting,  and  that  moved  him  so  deeply  in  the  remem- 
brance, had  no  words  with  which  to  answer  him. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FLIGHT   FROM   DEFEAT. 

That  was  the  last  visit  Dalton  made  the  Le  Beau  box 
during  the  long  night. 

It  was  already  advancing  into  the  wee  sma'  hours,  and 
the  slow  length  of  nominating  speeches,  varied  by  dem- 
onstrations gotten  up  to  compliment  some  favorite,  had 
been  dragging  along  interminably.  Now,  suddenly, 
events  began  to  move.  There  were  signs  of  an  approach- 
ing crisis,  and  John,  who  in  all  his  absorption  with  Mar- 
garet, had  still  kept  his  finger  on  the  pulse  of  the  con- 
vention found  it  was  time  for  him  to  be  at  his  post.  He 
had  said,  on  leaving  the  box,  that  he  hoped  to  be  able  to 
come  back  but  he  could  not  be  sure. 

"It  may  be  a  tremendous  struggle  from  now  on  to  the 
end,"  he  said,  "Until  within  the  last  few  hours,  I  had  not 
thought  of  making  much  of  an  effort  for  the  nomination, 
but  now  I  am  determined  to  make  the  fight  of  my  life — 
and  you  must  help  me." 

He  said  the  last  words  with  that  smile  that  seemed  to 
claim  a  right  to  her  help,  and  Margaret  answered  it  with 
a  smile  that  did  not  deny  the  right. 

Dalton  had  hardly  taken  his  seat  in  his  delegation,  be- 
fore Hall's  state  was  called.  It  was  very  well  known  that 
his  state  was  for  Dalton,  first,  last  and  always,  and  Hall 
himself  was  recognized  as  one  of  his  most  ardent  admir- 
ers and  staunchest  supporters.  Moreover,  Hall's  own 
personality  was  of  unusual  interest.  His  brilliant  career 


THE  LEADER  193 

of  the  last  two  years  was  universally  known,  but  many  of 
the  delegates  had  never  seen  him,  and  curiosity  to  see 
Hall  combined  with  the  desire  to  hear  the  words  that 
would  put  Dalton  into  nomination  to  secure  for  him  an 
unusually  attentive  hearing. 

When  the  storm  of  applause  that  had  accompanied 
him  in  his  progress  to  the  platform — and  that  was  for 
himself  and  not  for  his  candidate — had  died  away,  Mr. 
Hall  waited  for  a  moment.  Without  doubt  he  knew 
how  to  produce  an  effect,  for  the  hush  of  expectancy 
added  greatly  to  the  power  of  his  words  that  rang  through 
the  hall  like  a  clarion  call — "I  am  going  to  name  the  next 
President!" 

He  had  to  wait  again  until  another  storm  of  applause 
had  died  down  before  he  could  go  on.  Then,  briefly,  in 
flashing  sentences,  he  pictured  vividly  "The  Lion  of  the 
Party,"  "The  man  who  alone  in  American  politics  stood 
for  a  great  principle,"  "The  faithful  friend  of  the  masses," 
"The  idolized  leader  of  the  people." 

At  each  new  term,  the  galleries  shouted  back  their 
adoration  of  the  man  whose  description  they  easily  rec- 
ognized, and  at  each  great  shout,  Margaret  glowed 
afresh  with  a  pride  that  had  in  it  something  of  the  pride 
of  possession. 

Once  more  the  speaker  came  to  a  full  stop,  while  the 
audience  waited,  breathlessly,  for  his  concluding  sen- 
tence : 

"Mr.  Chairman,  and  Delegates  of  the  Convention,  I 
present  to  you  the  name  of  your  next  President — the 
Honorable  John  Dalton!" 


194  THE  LEADER 

All  the  demonstrations  of  the  night  put  together  could 
hardly  equal  the  one  that  followed  those  electric  words. 
Dalton's  followers  had  been  busy  during  the  speech  in 
quietly  distributing  flags  through  the  galleries,  the  floor, 
and  the  boxes,  and  with  the  roar  that  greeted  Dalton's 
name,  the  vast  hall  sprang  into  a  waving  mass  of  color. 
Even  those  delegates  and  politicians  who  were  Berkeley 
men — with  the  exception  perhaps  of  a  few  leaders  and 
bosses — thinking,  no  doubt,  that  like  some  other  demon- 
strations, this  was  intended  as  a  compliment  to  the  man 
who  was  unquestionably  the  party's  greatest  leader,  did 
not  hesitate  to  wave  their  flags  and  frantically  shout  his 
name. 

That  did  not  much  disturb  the  bosses.  Knowing  that 
the  machine  was  perfectly  organized,  they  did  not  grudge 
the  people's  champion,  whose  destruction  they  had  deter- 
mined upon,  these  last  obsequies.  But  when  Dalton's 
delegation  raised  the  state  standard  with  those  states 
following  who  were  loyal  to  him,  and  took  up  their  march 
around  the  hall,  and  when,  as  they  marched,  state  after 
state,  from  the  ranks  of  those  thety  had  depended  upon 
for  Berkeley,  caught  the  infection  of  enthusiasm  and 
joined  the  march,  the  leaders  began  to  tremble.  With 
stealthy  pencils  they  made  rapid  calculations,  and  to 
their  dismay  they  began  to  see  the  majority  they  had 
counted  upon,  endangered. 

Dalton,  in  his  seat,  was  also  making  calculations,  but 
he  needed  no  pencil.  A  master  of  detail,  his  mind  held 
accurately  the  number  belonging  to  each  delegation,  and 
it  was  an  easy  matter  to  make  a  swift  mental  addition 


THE  LEADER  195 

of  his  rapidly  growing  forces.  Hope  was  rising  on  steady 
wing,  and  as  the  triumphal  procession  passed  Margaret's 
box  and  he  had  good  excuse  for  turning  to  watch  its 
progress,  and  saw  that  she  was  looking  toward  him,  he 
could  not  resist  one  lightning-like  glance  of  triumphant 
joy,  straight  into  her  eyes. 

But  the  victory  was  not  won.  To  restore  order  the 
chairman — when  the  demonstration  had  continued  so 
long,  each  moment  growing  wilder,  as  to  make  him  hope- 
less of  its  ever  coming  to  an  end — gave  a  signal  to  the 
orchestra,  and  the  inspiring  strains  of  the  Star  Spangled 
Banner  crashed  rythmically  into  the  maelstrom  of 
voices.  The  few  who  were  not  already  on  their  feet, 
sprang  to  them  instantly,  out  of  respect  to  the  nation's 
anthem,  and  those  who  could  not  join  in  singing  the 
words — which  was  by  far  the  greater  number,  since 
Americans  do  not  know  their  national  songs — kept  time 
to  the  music  with  the  waving  of  their  flags. 

It  had  the  desired  effect:  it  restored  order.  To  the 
martial  strains  the  procession  of  states  marched  back  to 
their  places,  and  by  the  time  the  stately  music  was  ended 
and  the  band  had  burst  into  the  rollicking  strains  of 
"Dixie," — for  the  moment,  as  always,  throwing  the 
house  into  a  delirium  of  enthusiasm,  but  one  from  which 
it  quickly  recovered — the  convention  was  once  more 
ready  for  business. 

Then  followed  for  three  long  hours  a  mortal  struggle. 
While  nominating  or  seconding  speeches  proceeded 
steadily,  each  side  was  desperately  at  work.  Each 
speaker  was  instructed,  either  by  Dalton's  party  or  the 


196  THE  LEADER 

machine,  to  introduce  into  his  speech,  no  matter  who  his 
candidate  might  be,  some  subtly  convincing  words  for 
either  Berkeley  or  Dalton.  The  party  whips  were  work- 
ing feverishly,  visiting  every  doubtful  delegate,  and  using 
all  the  powerful  instruments  of  the  machine  to  recover 
the  ground  they  had  lost;  while  Dalton's  friends  were 
working  no  less  earnestly  to  make  capital  for  their  can- 
didate. 

Seton,  too  restless  in  this  critical  state  of  affairs  to  sit 
idly  in  the  box,  though  he  had  no  access  to  the  delegates 
in  their  seats,  had  stationed  himself  in  the  entrance  to 
the  lobby  where  he  might  catch  any  stray  delegates  in 
coming  or  going  and  get  in  what  work  he  could;  or,  at 
least,  be  on  hand  if  a  sudden  crisis  should  arise  where  an 
outside  man  could  be  useful. 

Dalton  sat  quietly  in  his  seat,  but  to  him  came  con- 
stantly the  heads  of  his  party  to  talk  it  over  with  him,  to 
tell  him  how  matters  were  progressing,  and  to  get  new 
suggestions  from  his  fertile  brain.  His  own  state  had 
been  called  immediately  after  business  had  been  re- 
sumed, and  he  had  risen  and,  as  had  been  agreed  upon, 
yielded  his  place  to  the  last  state  on  the  alphabetical  list. 
It  was  a  move  that  the  party  bosses  understood  perfectly, 
and  they  almost  literally  gnashed  their  teeth  with  rage 
at  his  getting  ahead  of  them  in  this,  while  they  set  them- 
selves, with  an  energy  to  which  new  venom  had  been 
added,  to  get  in  their  deadly  work. 

Day  had  long  since  broken,  and  the  morning  sun  was 
streaming  in  the  eastern  windows  when,  last  in  the  long 
list,  Dalton's  own  state  was  once  more  called.  The 


THE  LEADER  197 

great  audience  had  not  perceptibly  diminished  in  num- 
bers, nor  perceptibly  wearied  in  waiting.  With  unflag- 
ging zeal  the  galleries  shouted  at  every  mention  of  a  fa- 
vorite's name,  and  with  untiring  patience,  men  who  had 
stood  all  night  long  in  close  and  stifling  ranks,  listened 
and  responded  to  each  speaker's  stirring  words. 

With  the  dawn  a  breeze  had  sprung  up  that  found  its 
way  into  the  building,  gratefully  reviving  fainting  flesh 
and  failing  spirit.  Up  in  Margaret's  box  these  last  hours 
had  moved  in  a  varying  ratio  of  speed  to  the  various 
members  of  the  party.  Margaret  was  too  keenly  alive  to 
the  impending  crisis  to  feel  anything  but  such  intense 
excitement  as  winged  each  passing  moment.  Julie  had 
found  it  extremely  dull  since  Seton  had  deserted  her, 
and  if  it  had  not  been  that  he  came  back  at  long  intervals 
for  a  moment's  stay  to  report  progress,  she  would  have 
insisted  on  being  taken  home  by  some  one,  and  probably 
have  broken  up  the  party.  Hugh  was  honestly  inter- 
ested in  the  progress  of  events,  and,  besides,  finding  a 
mournful  pleasure  in  Margaret's  proximity  through  the 
long  hours;  and  Helen  and  Peyton,  when  their  interest 
in  the  convention  doings  flagged,  found  each  other  suf- 
ficiently entertaining  to  make  the  moments  fleet  by  un- 
noticed. 

The  strain  of  these  last  hours  had  begun  to  tell  on  Dai- 
ton.  His  wonderful  physique  had  seemed  to  endure 
without  effort  the  physical  strain  of  successive  days  and 
nights  without  sleep,  and  the  mental  strain  of  his  gigantic 
mental  efforts,  but  it  was  the  moral  strain  that  was  be- 
ginning to  tell.  A  man  who,  thus  far  through  his  career, 


198  THE  LEADER 

had  never  set  himself  seriously  to  accomplish  an  end 
without  succeeding,  now  found  himself  engaged  in  a 
hand  to  hand  struggle  for  what  had  suddenly  become 
the  most  ardent  desire  of  his  life,  and  with  the  odds  heav- 
ily against  him. 

His  plan  worked  as  he  had  intended  it.  The  member 
of  his  delegation  to  whom  he  had  entrusted  the  office  of 
seconding  his  nomination,  had  hardly  concluded  his 
speech,  when  from  all  over  the  house  came  cries  for  Dai- 
ton.  The  galleries  took  it  up,  as  was  expected,  and 
much  as  the  chairman  might  wish  to  expedite  matters 
and  get  down  to  the  business  of  voting,  there  was  no 
withstanding  those  importunate  demands.  For  some 
time  speakers  had  been  limited  to  ten  minute  speeches, 
and  for  the  last  hour  to  five  minutes,  but  as  the  chair- 
man called  Dalton  to  the  platform  he  removed  the  time 
limit.  It  was  the  courtesy  due  a  great  man,  and  the 
galleries  shouted  their  approval. 

It  was  a  dramatic  moment.  The  house,  that  through 
the  long  hours  of  the  night  had  with  difficulty  been  kept 
by  the  police  sergeants  in  any  semblance  of  order,  was 
now  almost  painfully  silent;  and  every  delegate  was 
listening  with  respectful  or  eager  attention.  They  had 
been  whipped  into  line  again;  the  party  lash  had  been 
used  vigorously  and  with  effect,  and  those  delegations 
that  had  for  the  moment  been  carried  away  by  their  old 
enthusiasm  for  Dalton,  were  ready  now  to  do  their  duty 
by  the  machine  and  vote  for  Berkeley — since  the  ma- 
chine decreed  that  an  eastern  man  and  one  with  saner 
views  than  Dalton,  was  the  only  hope  of  the  party  in  the 


THE  LEADER  199 

coming  election.  But  many  of  them  were  going  to  do  it 
reluctantly,  and  were  listening  now  with  sorrowful  atten- 
tion to  his  words,  as  to  the  last  words  of  the  man  they 
loved  before  his  political  death. 

Dalton  could  not  know  how  successful  the  organization 
had  been;  but  some  quality  in  the  attention  of  the  dele- 
gates gave  to  a  mind,  supersensitive  to  atmospheres,  a 
vague  sense  of  chill,  against  which,  for  the  opening  mo- 
ments of  his  speech,  he  had  to  struggle.  But  it  was  a 
supreme  effort,  and  it  was  not  long  until  both  speaker  and 
hearers  were  swept  from  their  feet  by  the  resistless  tide 
of  his  eloquence  and  the  force  of  his  logic.  So  wrapt 
was  the  audience  that  even  the  involuntary  bursts  of 
applause — as  some  keen  thrust  pierced  the  armor  of  his 
foes,  or  some  noble  sentiment  swept  men's  thoughts  to 
the  skies — were  quickly  stilled,  lest  a  word  be  lost. 

He  went  back  to  his  seat  in  the  midst  of  another  great 
ovation — the  third  that  had  been  accorded  him  in  that 
convention — and  the  chairman  was  in  despair.  For, 
should  this  equal  the  others  in  length,  as  it  threatened  to 
do,  it  meant  a  delay  that  could  be  illy  borne  at  this  late 
hour.  Much  as  Dalton  appreciated  the  enthusiasm  of 
his  friends,  the  delay  was  almost  as  intolerable  to  him  as 
to  the  chairman.  As  a  last  expedient  he  rose  to  his  feet 
once  more,  and  in  a  swift  and  graceful  gesture,  expressed 
at  the  same  moment  his  thanks  and  begged  for  quiet. 
It  was  effectual,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  house  was  in 
order  for  the  voting. 

Dalton  sat  down  to  await  the  results  with  what  calm- 
ness he  could.  As  the  roll-call  of  states  went  on,  for  a 


200  THE  LEADER 

time  the  event  seemed  to  hang  in  balance,  so  nearly 
matched  were  the  two  opponents.  But  gradually,  Dai- 
ton  began  to  perceive  that  some  of  the  states  he  had 
counted  on,  some  that  had  followed  his  banner  around 
the  convention  hall,  were  pulling  away  from  him.  Many 
of  them  could  not  refrain  from  a  half  apology  to  Dalton 
as  they  announced  their  vote.  Occasionally,  a  leader  of 
a  delegation  made  a  plea  of  the  unit  rule — stating  that 
his  delegation  was  nearly  equally  divided,  but  that, 
owing  to  the  rule,  they  must  cast  their  vote  solidly  for 
Berkeley — and  each  leader  no  doubt  hoped  that  Dalton 
might  regard  him  as  one  of  the  minority. 

It  began  to  be  clear  to  Dalton  that  the  organization  had 
gotten  in  its  deadly  work,  and  as  each  successive  state 
sent  its  full  quota  of  votes  for  Berkeley,  his  heart  failed 
him,  and  his  indomitable  courage  at  last  giving  way,  he 
began  to  realize  that  he  was  physically  ill  from  overstrain 
and  fatigue.  An  occasional  state  still  came  up  loyally 
to  his  support,  and  at  each  such  occasion  the  galleries 
went  wild  in  their  effort  to  show  their  approbation,  but 
Dalton  and  his  friends  soon  saw  that  their  cause  was 
hopeless. 

He  was  growing  more  seriously  ill,  and  was  in  danger 
now,  at  any  moment,  of  a  physical  collapse.  Those  who 
sat  near  him  saw  it  and  urged  him  to  go  to  his  hotel.  He 
could  not  endure  the  thought  of  running  away,  however, 
and  he  believed  that  his  iron  will  would  keep  him  up  to 
the  last.  But  there  came  a  moment  when  the  sense  of 
physical  weakness  and  faintness  began  to  inspire  him 
with  a  new  dread.  To  physically  collapse  upon  the  floor 


THE  LEADER  201 

of  the  convention,  it  seemed  to  him,  would  be  a  melo- 
dramatic close  to  his  career  that  he  could  not  endure. 
Better  the  ignominy  of  running  away  than  such  a  fiasco. 
While  he  had  yet  strength  left  to  get  himself  out  of  the 
hall,  he  would  go,  rather  than  be  carried  out  by  others. 
By  the  time  he  had  come  to  this  conclusion  the  roll-call 
of  states  had  so  far  progressed  that  Berkeley's  nomina- 
tion was  assured.  He  was  sorry  he  had  not  gone  earlier, 
since  his  departure  now  would  have  the  air  of  sulkiness 
added  to  cowardice.  It  must  be  done,  however,  before 
it  was  too  late,  and  with  an  effort  he  rose  to  his  feet,  and 
with  a  careless  wave  of  his  hand  to  his  friends  and  a  smile 
on  his  face,  started  for  the  door. 

Then  he  glanced  at  Margaret.  After  all,  the  keenest 
edge  of  his  disappointment  in  the  result  had  come  to  be 
that  it  was  cutting  him  off  forever  from  that  hope  for  his 
future  centering  in  her,  which,  in  his  thoughts,  he  had 
made  to  hinge  upon  the  nomination. 

Margaret,  watching  him  from  her  box,  and  wondering 
and  disappointed  for  a  moment,  that  the  dauntless  should 
flee  in  the  face  of  defeat,  caught  his  glance  and  under- 
stood it.  Startled  and  dismayed,  she  read  in  it  a  fare- 
well as  sorrowful  and  as  final  as  if  he  had  uttered  the 
words. 


CHAPTER  XVII' 

ANOTHER   OPPORTUNITY. 

Berkeley  was  nominated.  There  was  not  the  smallest 
doubt  of  it;  and  long  before  the  result  was  announced, 
many  states  that  had  cast  their  first  ballot  for  some  fav- 
orite son  came  rushing  to  their  feet,  asking  a  reconsider- 
ation and  adding  their  quota  of  votes  to  swell  his  tri- 
umph. Dal  ton's  states  were  loyal  to  him,  frantically 
loyal,  but  most  of  the  others  who  had  not  voted  for 
Berkeley  at  first,  tumbled  over  each  other  in  their  eager- 
ness to  get  into  the  procession. 

The  party  leaders  were  radiant.  The  machine  had 
triumphed.  Organization  had  accomplished  its  work, 
and  of  course  the  fickle  crowd  shouted  itself  hoarse. 
They  had  wanted  Dalton,  but  since  that  could  not  be, 
then  they  were  glad  at  least  to  have  a  candidate,  and 
glad  the  long  strain  of  the  night  was  over.  The  band 
played  "Hail  to  the  Chief,"  the  people  roared,  there  was 
noise  and  confusion  enough  to  satisfy  even  the  Berkeley 
bosses. 

But  behind  all  this  excitement,  a  new  excitement  was 
making  itself  felt.  The  galleries  and  boxes  were  begin- 
ning to  empty  themselves;  indeed,  already  many  had 
left  the  house,  eagerly  seeking  home  and  breakfast,  when 
the  strange  actions  of  the  delegates  stayed  the  steps  of 
those  who  had  not  yet  gone.  They  were  gathered  in 
excited  groups,  there  was  much  violent  gesticulation,  and 
as  the  audience  began  to  grow  quiet  in  its  curiosity  to 


THE  LEADER  203 

know  what  it  all  meant,  loud  talking  and  emphatic  lan- 
guage could  be  heard.  In  a  sudden  lull,  the  stentorian 
tones  of  an  excited  Southerner  came  distinctly  to  Mar- 
garet's ears. 

"Blast  him!"  he  shouted,  "Let  him  get  off  the  platform 
if  he  don't  like  it!  It's  our  platform.  We  made  it,  and  if 
he  don't  like  it  let  him  get  off  and  we'll  put  Dalton  on." 

Others  heard  it  besides  Margaret,  and  the  strenuous 
efforts  of  the  party  leaders  to  quiet  the  excited  delegate 
were  plainly  evident.  The  hall  was  half  emptied  when 
the  excitement  became  apparent,  and  even  some  of  the 
delegates  had  gone,  supposing,  although  they  had  not 
been  formally  dismissed,  that  the  business  of  the  session 
was  over.  The  news  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  hall 
quickly  reached  the  outside  in  that  mysterious  way  news 
has  of  propagating  itself  without  visible  instrument,  and 
the  delegates  came  running  back  and  the  hall  began  to 
fill  up  again.  Whatever  the  cause  for  excitement,  it 
was  something  that  the  party  leaders  seemed  to  have  pre- 
vious knowledge  of  and  to  have  arranged  for,  and  their 
effort  appeared  now  to  be  to  get  the  delegates  sufficiently 
quieted  down  to  make  some  announcement. 

But  feeling  was  running  too  high  to  submit  to  ordinary 
methods  of  soothing,  and  it  was  only  after  nearly  a  half 
hour  of  hard  work  on  the  part  of  the  bosses,  evidently 
using  every  cogent  argument,  pleading  and  threatening, 
that  they  had  finally  induced  the  most  violent  of  the 
agitators  to  sulkily  take  their  seats. 

Up  in  the  boxes,  and  in  Margaret's  box  no  less  than  in 
the  others,  the  curiosity  to  understand  what  was  going 


204  THE  LEADER 

on  was  intense.  Margaret's  party  missed  Seton,  who 
would  have  been  sure  to  bring  them  the  coveted  infor- 
mation had  he  been  anywhere  in  the  hall,  and  they  knew, 
without  doubt,  he  must  have  gone  away  with  Dalton. 

It  was  more  than  curiosity  that  moved  Margaret  so 
strongly.  Dalton's  defeat  had  affected  her  scarcely  less 
deeply  than  it  had  affected  him.  Hugh's  disappoint- 
ment had  been  great,  too,  and  he  had  heartily  expressed 
it  in  such  vigorous  terms  as  had  greatly  comforted  Mar- 
garet. Helen  and  Julie  also  were  frank  and  voluble  in 
their  expressions  of  regret;  only  Peyton  maintained  a 
discreet  and  unsympathetic  silence.  But  genuine  as  the 
disappointment  of  the  others  might  be,  no  one  of  them 
suffered  from  it  as  did  Margaret  in  the  intensity  of  her 
sympathy  for  Dalton  and  now  she  was  suffering  almost 
as  much  in  a  keen  regret  for  his  absence  at  such  a  critical 
moment.  She  had  distinctly  heard  the  words — "Let 
him  get  off  the  platform  and  we'll  put  Dalton  on  it." 
What  if  they  were  about  to  reconsider  their  action  and 
Dalton  not  here  to  take  advantage  of  it! 

In  her  fever  of  anxiety  that  he  should  not  miss  the 
chance,  if  there  was  to  be  one,  she  came  near  begging 
Hugh  to  go  and  find  him  and  inform  him  of  what  was 
going  on,  that  he  might  at  least  have  the  opportunity  of 
accepting  or  declining  his  chance  as  he  might  please. 
But  the  personal  note  that  had  this  night  made  itself  felt 
in  her  relations  to  Dalton,  restrained  her.  Had  hers  been 
such  an  entirely  impersonal  interest  and  admiration  as 
Hugh's,  she  would  have  found  no  difficulty  in  preferring 
her  request;  but  her  tongue  was  fettered  now,  and  she 


THE  LEADER  205 

was  irritated  with  Hugh  for  not  himself  suggesting  to  go 
and  hunt  up  Dalton. 

The  leaders  had  succeeded  in  at  last  getting  the  dele- 
gates into  their  places,  and  the  chairman  having  brought 
them  to  order  by  the  stroke  of  his  gavel,  was  now  making 
an  announcement  which  Margaret  strained  her  ears  to 
hear. 

"Gentlemen  of  the  Convention/'  he  said,  "Mr.  Burton 
has  a  message  to  read  to  you.  Rumors  as  to  what  its 
nature  might  be,  many  of  them  exaggerated,  some  of 
them  utterly  false,  have  been  flying  about  among  the 
delegates.  I  hope  you  will  listen  to  Mr.  Burton  quietly 
and  with  respectful  attention,  and  that  you  will  also 
accord  the  same  courtesy  to  Mr.  Walters,  who  will  tell 
you  what  action  the  committee,  to  whom  the  matter  has 
been  entrusted,  proposes  to  take — subject  of  course  to 
your  pleasure." 

Mr.  Burton  stepped  forward  at  once,  holding  a  paper 
in  his  hand. 

"I  received  last  night,"  he  said,  "a  telegram  from  Mr. 
Berkeley.  It  was  sent  after  he  had  received  by  wire  a 
brief  synopsis  of  the  important  points  in  the  platform. 
It  came  while  we  were  in  the  very  heat  of  making  and 
seconding  nominations.  I  called  aside  a  few  of  your 
leaders  and  entrusted  to  them  the  nature  of  its  contents. 
It  seemed  to  them  and  to  your  chairman  best  to  submit 
the  matter  to  a  committee  of  Mr.  Berkeley's  friends  for 
its  consideration.  I  will  now  read  you  the  telegram  and 
then  Mr.  Walters  will  tell  you  the  action  the  committee 
has  taken  upon  it." 


206  THE  LEADER 

In  a  breathless  silence  he  read: 

"I  have  just  received  the  outline  of  the  platform.  I 
am,  of  course,  very  far  from  sure  that  I  will  receive  the 
nomination  for  the  Presidency  from  the  convention,  and 
it  would  be  folly  on  my  part  to  decline  such  nomination 
before  receiving  it.  But  should  I  receive  it,  I  ask  you 
immediately  thereafter  to  state  to  the  convention  my 
views  on  the  anti-trust  resolution,  and  should  they  think 
that  the  views  of  their  candidate  should  not  be  so  opposed 
to  any  part  of  the  platform,  will  you  then,  for  me,  give 
them  an  opportunity  of  selecting  a  candidate  more  per- 
fectly in  accord  with  the  platform. 

MARTIN  R.  BERKELEY." 

The  excitement  as  he  finished  reading  was  tremendous, 
and  threatened  to  break  out  into  uncontrollable  tumult, 
but  the  chairman,  with  hasty  gavel,  secured  a  hearing 
for  himself  and  begged  them  to  refrain  from  any  expres- 
sion of  opinion  either  by  word  or  sound,  until  they  should 
have  heard  Mr.  Walters. 

"Mr.  Chairman,"  Mr.  Walters  began,  "when  we  nom- 
inated Martin  R.  Berkeley  for  the  highest  office  in  the 
gift  of  the  American  people,  we  knew  we  were  nomi- 
nating a  high-minded  gentleman;  but  I  think  there  were 
not  many  among  us  who  realized  that  so  scrupulous  was 
he,  almost  over-scrupulous  it  may  seem  to  some  of  us, 
that  rather  than  be  placed  in  a  false  position  he  would 
resign  the  high  honor  you  have  bestowed  on  him.  When, 
ever  before  in  the  history  of  American  politics,  has  too 
sensitive  a  spirit  of  honor  led  a  man  to  refuse  such  a  prof- 


THE  LEADER  207 

fered  gift — the  greatest  the  world  has  to  bestow.  We 
believed  that  we  had  nominated  a  great  man  and  a  good 
one,  but  we  had  not  measured  up  to  the  standard  of  his 
greatness.  The  American  people  are  quick  to  recognize 
and  respond  to  such  a  chivalrous  sacrifice  to  the  sense  of 
right,  and  whereas  some  of  us,  who  first  read  his  telegram 
feared  it  might  bring  disaster,  we  now  believe  it  will,  in- 
stead, arouse  such  enthusiasm  in  the  minds  of  the  clear- 
thinking  masses  as  will  sweep  him  on  to  the  polls  on  the 
crest  of  a  very  tidal  wave  of  victory. 

"You  note  he  makes  no  demand  for  a  change  in  the 
platform;  he  is  only  supersensitively  afraid  that  you  may 
not  have  fully  understood  his  views,  and  had  you  so 
understood  them,  might  have  preferred  another  candi- 
date. All  honor  to  such  supersensitiveness!  All  honor 
to  our  noble-minded  candidate! 

"Mr.  Chairman,  you  appointed  a  committee  to  deter- 
mine what  action  should  be  taken  on  this  telegram.  We 
have  discussed  it  from  every  point  of  view,  and  have 
come  to  an  unanimous  conclusion  that  there  is  but  one 
line  of  action  for  us.  Subject  to  the  approval  of  the 
convention,  we  propose  to  send  Mr.  Berkeley  this  tele- 
gram: 

Then  he  read  from  a  typewritten  copy : 

"Your  views  on  the  anti- trust  question  are  well-known. 
You  are  still,  in  spite  of  them  or  because  of  them,  the  al- 
most unanimous  choice  of  this  convention  for  the  Presi- 
dency." 

How  the  delegates  would  have  received  this  was  un- 
certain. There  were  the  beginnings  of  applause,  as  Mr. 


208  THE  LEADER 

Walters  finished  reading,  but  at  that  moment  Dalton, 
pale,  and  his  face  in  tense  lines,  walked  rapidly  down  the 
aisle  to  his  seat.  At  once  the  house,  delegates  and  gal- 
leries, broke  into  an  uproar  with  cries  of  "Dalton!  Dal- 
ton!" and  "Platform!  Platform!"  Nor  would  their  im- 
perative cries  be  stilled  until  Dalton,  rising,  started 
swiftly  down  the  aisle  for  the  platform,  his  face  still  white 
and  set  and  his  eyes  fixed,  so  that  he  did  not  seem  to  see 
the  hands  outstretched  to  him  all  along  his  path.  And 
Margaret,  from  her  box,  noting  the  signs  of  illness,  was 
ready  to  wish  as  ardently  that  he  had  not  come,  as  a  few 
moments  before  she  had  longed  for  his  coming. 

When  Dalton  had  left  the  hall,  less  than  an  hour  before, 
Seton  had  met  him  in  the  lobby  and  hurried  him  to  his 
own  room  in  a  hotel  close  to  the  convention  hall.  He 
had  hastily  summoned  a  physician  also,  for  it  was  evi- 
dent to  him  that  something  more  than  mere  fatigue  was 
the  matter  with  Dalton.  The  physician  had  just  admin- 
istered such  remedies  as  seemed  to  be  immediately 
demanded,  and  was  gravely  admonishing  Seton  that  the 
patient  must  be  kept  absolutely  quiet,  as  the  symptoms 
indicated  that  he  was  threatened  with  a  serious  illness, 
when  the  door  of  the  room  was  thrown  open  and  half  a 
dozen  excited  men  burst  violently  in. 

"Dalton,"  they  called  at  the  threshold,  "You  must 
come  at  once!  You've  got  another  chance  and  a  good 
one !  That  fool  Berkeley  has  sent  a  telegram  threatening 
the  convention  that  if  they  don't  change  the  platform 
he'll  resign."  Which  was  not  an  entirely  exact  state- 


THE  LEADER  209 

ment,  but  the  truth  was  probably  not  willfully  perverted, 
since  they  were  only  repeating  one  of  the  wild  rumors 
that  had  been  flying  about  among  the  delegates. 

Dalton  was  just  sinking  off  into  a  state  of  such  abso- 
lute repose  as  was  half  stupor,  half  sleep.  But  he  was 
wide  enough  awake  at  their  words.  He  sprang  at  once 
from  his  pillow,  in  spite  of  the  grave  admonitions  of  the 
physician  and  Frank's  appeals  to  him  to  lie  down  min- 
gled with  his  angry  commands  to  the  intruders  to  go  a 
away. 

"Stop,  boys,"  said  Dalton  quietly,  as  the  men,  seeing 
how  ill  he  was,  turned  to  slink  away  in  obedience  to 
Frank's  continued  urgings.  "Doctor,  I  don't  believe 
I'm  as  ill  as  you  think  me.  I  must  hear  what  they  have 
to  say." 

In  response  to  his  quiet  command  to  them  to  tell  him 
all  about  it,  one  of  the  men  brought  forward  a  correct 
copy  of  the  telegram,  which  he  had  secured  from  Burton, 
and  read  it  to  Dalton. 

"There  are  any  number  of  the  delegates  ready  to  undo 
their  work  of  an  hour  ago  and  put  you  in  Berkeley's 
place,"  he  added,  as  he  finished  reading  the  telegram, 
"but  I'm  afraid  you're  too  ill  to  go  back  to  the  conven- 
tion." 

"Entirely  too  ill!"  the  doctor  interposed  hastily,  and 
Frank  added  persuasively: 

"Now  go  back  boys,  please,  and  let  Dalton  alone — 
you  can  see  for  yourselves  how  ill  he  is,  and  I  suppose 
you  don't  want  to  be  the  death  of  him." 

But  Dalton  stayed  them  with  uplifted  hand: 


210  THE  LEADER 

"No,  wait  a  minute,"  he  said,  "and  I'll  go  with  you. 
Doctor,  I  know  my  own  strength — I'm  perfectly  equal 
to  it.  Your  remedies  and  these  few  minutes  of  rest  have 
done  much  for  me.  I'll  relieve  you  of  all  responsibility 
in  the  matter,  but  I  must  go  and  see  what  is  going  on. 
I  promise  to  come  back  and  stay  in  bed  a  week  if  neces- 
sary." 

There  was  no  gainsaying  him.  Frank  and  the  doctor 
continued  to  make  feeble  afforts  to  dissuade  him  from 
going,  but  they  were  of  so  little  avail  that  they  found 
themselves  instead,  helping  him  with  feverish  haste  to 
get  himself  in  suitable  order  for  a  return  to  the  hall. 

Dalton's  first  feeling  on  hearing  of  the  telegram  had 
been  one  of  intense  indignation  mixed  with  some  right- 
eous anger.  His  second,  was  a  secret  exultation.  Here 
was  his  chance  thrown  at  his  feet  by  his  rival;  he  would 
be  a  dolt  not  to  pick  it  up.  The  anger  and  the  exulta- 
tion were  still  seething  together  in  his  veins  as,  weaker 
than  he  had  expected  to  find  himself,  he  entered  the 
convention  hall.  When,  in  response  to  the  peremptory 
demands  of  the  house,  he  took  his  seat  on  the  platform, 
he  had  some  time  to  think  over  his  course  of  action,  for 
the  hot-headed  southerner,  who  had  uttered  the  hasty 
words  advising  Berkeley  to  get  off  the  platform  if  he 
didn't  like  it,  and  let  them  put  Dalton  on,  had  evidently 
been  effectually  reasoned  with  by  the  party  leaders,  and 
was  now  eating  his  words.  Dalton  hardly  listened  to 
him,  his  own  thoughts  were  so  absorbing.  One  of  his 
friends  on  the  platform  had  in  a  whisper,  given  him  the 
substance  of  Walters'  speech  and  the  telegram  the  com- 


THE  LEADER  211 

mittee  proposed  sending,  and  he  found  his  thoughts 
suddenly,  with  no  volition  of  his  own,  running  in  an 
entirely  new  channel. 

He  had  at  first  honestly  believed  that  this  was  a  party 
scheme  to  force  his  resolution  out  of  the  platform,  and 
what  had  seemed  to  him  the  low  trickery  of  the  whole 
thing,  had  roused  his  intensest  scorn  and  indignation. 
Into  this  feeling  had  entered  also  a  personal  one,  that  he 
could  not  see  the  victory,  for  which  he  had  toiled  through 
the  long  hours  of  that  hot  night  and  won  in  the  face  of 
such  odds,  thus  snatched  from  him  at  the  last  moment, 
without  anger  and  resentment. 

But  the  Southerner  was  long-winded,  and  Dalton's 
emotions  had  time  to  cool.  Then  with  his  usual  fair- 
mindedness,  he  conscientiously  tried  to  put  himself  in 
Berkeley's  place  and  understand  his  motives  for  such  an 
extraordinary  action.  Reluctantly,  he  was  compelled 
to  relinquish  his  first  point  of  view.  From  what  he 
knew  of  Berkeley  he  might  be  guilty  of  a  mistake  in 
judgment,  but  he  could  not  descend  to  a  low  trick.  There 
was  no  man  living  to  whom  an  action  instigated  by  a 
chivalrous,  if  superfine,  sense  of  honor  could  appeal  to 
more  strongly  than  to  Dalton.  He  began  to  feel  his  first 
honest  glow  of  admiration  for  his  rival. 

But  the  gentleman  from  the  South  had  finished  at  last, 
and  now  galleries  and  delegates  would  not  be  denied 
their  demand  for  Dalton.  Seton,  who  had  accompanied 
him  to  the  hall,  had  left  him  at  the  delegates'  entrance 
and  once  more  sought  the  party  in  Margaret's  box. 

"He  has  no  business  to  be  here,"  he  said  to  Margaret. 


212  THE  LEADER 

"He  is  really  ill;  but  there's  no  use  trying  to  do  anything 
with  Dalton  when  he  sets  his  head.  My  only  consolation 
is  that  he  will  probably  snatch  the  nomination  away 
from  Berkeley.  Joe  Hall  is  ready,  the  minute  Dalton 
finishes  his  speech  of  arraignment,  to  spring  to  his  feet 
and  propose  a  reconsideration  of  Berkeley's  name  for 
candidate;  and  Dalton  no  doubt  will  have  worked  the 
delegates  up  into  such  a  frenzy  by  that  time,  that  they 
will  be  more  than  ready  to  wipe  Berkeley's  name  off  the 
slate.  Of  course,  then,  Dalton's  nomination  is  assured. 
I  suppose  it  will  pay,  but  I  hope  he  won't  get  his  death 
while  he's  getting  the  nomination." 

Seton's  air  of  mingled  gloom  and  triumph  kindled  in 
Margaret  the  like  mixture  of  incongruous  feelings.  She 
watched  Dalton,  as  he  came  forward  to  speak,  looking 
white  and  ill,  hardly  knowing  whether  her  sense  of  anxi- 
ety or  of  exultation  was  the  stronger. 

The  anxiety  predominated  as  he  began  to  speak;  for 
his  voice  was  hoarse  and  weak  and  altogether  unlike  that 
silver  organ  whose  musical  quality  alone  had  first  kin- 
dled her  admiration.  But  as  he  went  on  his  voice  cleared 
and  the  old  power  came  back.  Strength  from  some 
mysterious  source  seemed  supplied  to  him  in  fuller  and 
fuller  measure  with  each  trenchant  sentence.  At  the 
first,  even  the  exacting  Seton  could  not  but  be  satisfied 
with  Dalton's  apparent  arraignment  of  Berkeley's  mo- 
tives, and  his  satisfied  smile  showed  his  delight.  But  as 
Dalton  went  on  his  smile  disappeared,  his  satisfaction 
gave  place  to  wonder,  and  at  the  last  to  a  dismay  that 
would  have  been  ludicrous  if  it  had  not  been  pathetic. 


THE  LEADER  213 

Margaret  shared  his  emotions  through  most  of  the  speech, 
but  when  Seton  began  to  feel  dismay,  she  found  herself 
being  stirred  to  an  admiration  that  grew  with  each  suc- 
ceeding sentence. 

"These,"  said  Dalton,  as  he  concluded  his  scathing 
arraignment  of  the  machine  to  whose  scheming  he  had 
attributed  Berkeley's  action,  "were  my  honest  convic- 
tions when  I  first  heard  of  the  telegram.  But  I  have 
come  to  think  differently.  I  have  come  to  believe  that 
Berkeley's  only  fault  has  been  a  mistake  in  judgment. 
He  should  have  stated  his  convictions  clearly  and  em- 
phatically before  the  meeting  of  this  convention,  or  at 
least  before  the  possibility  of  a  nomination.  I  can  ex- 
cuse even  that  however,"  he  said  with  his  twinkling 
smile,  "on  the  plea  that  he  could  not  for  a  moment  be- 
lieve there  was  any  real  danger  of  such  a  resolution  being 
introduced  into  the  platform.  The  men  of  the  east  are 
prone  to  the  error  that  they  are  invincible  when  they 
entrench  themselves  behind  any  measure,  and  Berkeley 
was  especially  to  be  excused  in  such  a  belief,  for  no  doubt 
he  knew  how  thoroughly  the  east  had  organized  the 
party. 

"As  I  have  said,  it  would  have  been  far  better  if  Berke- 
ley, when  his  name  was  first  mentioned  for  the  Presi- 
dency, had  come  out  in  a  strong  statement  that  on  no 
condition  would  he  consent  to  run  on  a  platform  em- 
bodying such  a  resolution.  But — having  neglected  to 
make  such  a  statement — there  could  be  no  manlier 
course  left  to  him  than  the  one  he  has  taken :  He  gives 
this  convention  free  rein  to  elect  another  candidate  if 


214  THE  LEADER 

they  do  not  approve  of  his  views,  which  in  one  point  run 
directly  counter  to  the  platform.  He  does  not,  as  I  un- 
derstand, refuse  to  run  on  such  a  platform.  Of  course, 
if  such  were  his  meaning,  there  could  be  but  one  course 
left  for  us  to  pursue.  It  is  our  platform!"  Dalton's 
voice  rang  out  like  a  clarion — "Wrought  in  the  sweat  of 
our  brows,  written  in  our  heart's  blood.  No  power  on  earth 
can  move  us  from  the  stand  we  have  taken,  and  in  such 
case  there  would  be  but  one  thing  to  do — seek  a  new 
candidate.  But  if  this  message  means  that,  although 
these  are  not  his  views,  he  will  yet,  should  he  become  the 
chief  executive  of  this  nation,  carry  out  the  views  of  his 
party  when  occasion  offers,  I  see  no  reason  why  this  con- 
vention should  reconsider  its  action  of  an  hour  ago.  He 
was  your  choice  then  for  the  Presidency,  he  should  be 
much  more  your  choice  now:  for  he  has  shown  himself  to 
be  a  braver  man,  and  one  more  sensitively  alive  to  a 
point  of  honor,  than  even  his  friends  believed  him  to  be. 
"I  know,"  and  now  there  was  the  slightest  shade  of 
regret  in  Dalton's  tones,  "there  are  some  in  this  house 
who  are  eagerly  hoping  that  this  crisis  may  give  them  a 
chance  to  reverse  your  decision  and  put  in  nomination 
their  own  candidate.  To  them  I  say — The  moment  is 
not  opportune.  This  is  the  time  to  hold  up  the  hands  of 
your  party.  The  die  is  cast!  Berkeley  is  the  choice  of 
the  majority,  and  when,  in  the  history  of  this  grand  old 
party,  has  it  not  upheld  the  voice  of  the  majority!  Do 
not  take  advantage  of  the  nobility  of  a  man  who  throws 
himself  without  armor  upon  your  generosity,  to  stab 
him  to  death.  Above  all,  do  not  throw  the  party  we  all 


THE  LEADER  215 

love  into  the  throes  of  disunion  and  disruption.  Let  our 
desire  for  harmony  overrule  every  other  feeling  but  the 
determination  to  maintain  the  right!" 

The  effect  of  his  words  upon  his  own  followers  was  in- 
conceivable. They  sat  aghast;  and  Joe  Hall,  who  was  to 
have  sprung  to  his  feet  and  made  his  motion  to  recon- 
sider, sat  as  one  chained  to  his  chair.  There  were,  in- 
deed, some  low  mutterings  of  anger  among  his  friends, 
that  he  should  have  so  lightly  thrown  away  his  wonder- 
ful opportunity — should  have  betrayed  them,  they  called 
it — but  most  hearts  had  been  touched,  and  there  were 
tears  in  many  eyes  at  his  concluding  words. 

He  did  not  wait  to  hear  what  action  would  be  taken, 
for,  now  that  his  effort  was  over,  he  was  conscious  again 
of  that  over-powering  sense  of  weakness  and  illness  that 
threatened  him  at  any  moment  with  a  collapse.  He 
passed  swiftly  down  the  aisle,  and  once  more  he  would 
not  see  the  hands  outstretched  to  him — this  time  as  many 
by  Berkeley's  friends  as  by  his  own — but  went  swiftly 
and  silently  by  them  to  the  lobby,  where  Seton,  meeting 
him  with  no  word  of  greeting  but  in  a  silence  more  signifi- 
cant than  many  words,  hurried  him  away  to  the  carriage 
waiting  to  take  him  down  to  his  own  room  at  The 
Southern. 

Margaret,  up  in  her  box,  losing  no  word  of  his  speech, 
and  watching  his  swift  flight  from  the  convention  hall, 
felt  herself  alternately  consumed  with  anxiety  for  his 
physical  condition,  and  glowing  with  pride  in  the  nobil- 
ity of  his  character,  revealed  to  her  as  to  many  others  for 
the  first  time  in  its  full  stature, 


216  THE  LEADER 

But  stronger  than  any  other  emotion,  either  of  pride 
or  of  anxiety,  was  the  keen  sensation  of  pain,  under 
which  she  winced  as  from  a  knife  thrust,  that  not  once, 
from  the  moment  he  had  entered  the  hall  until  he  left  it, 
had  he  glanced  in  her  direction. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

AN   UNEXPECTED   TURN. 

Coming  out  into  the  full  blaze  of  the  morning  sun  and 
into  the  freshness  and  vigor  of  the  morning  air,  Margaret 
felt  dazed  as  if  she  were  coming  out  from  some  long  en- 
tombment, which  had  yet  been  of  so  exciting  a  nature  as 
to  efface  all  the  familiar  sensations  of  life.  It  was  the 
outside  world  that  seemed  unreal  to  her  now.  The 
chattering  of  the  sparrows,  the  passing  of  long  lines  of 
crowded  street-cars  with  clanging  bells,  the  cries  of  the 
newsboys,  as  they  shouted  out  brief  descriptions  of  the 
very  scenes  she  had  just  been  witnessing,  the  greetings 
of  friends  hurrying  gaily  home  to  breakfast  and  bed,  were 
all  like  images  in  a  dream;  for  the  life  she  had  been  living 
for  the  last  ten  hours  had  been  so  intense  and  vivid  as  to 
make  the  ordinary  events  of  every  day  seem  like  shadows. 

But  she  was  the  only  one  of  her  party  that  felt  dazed. 
Julie  was  chatting  steadily,  and  since  she  had  not  Seton 
to  talk  to,  was  bestowing  upon  Helen  and  Peyton  impar- 
tially the  flow  of  her  words.  They  were  all  discussing 
the  events  of  the  night  and,  as  was  natural,  they  were 
discussing  most  of  all  the  telegram,  and  Dalton's  attitude 
towards  it.  They  were  full  of  enthusiasm  and  admira- 
tion for  what  they  called  "his  act  of  devotion  to  his 
party."  Hugh,  as  usual,  was  warmest  in  his  praise,  for 
his  admiration  of  Dalton  had  been  steadily  growing  un- 
til now  he  could  find  no  terms  too  extravagant  in  which 
to  express  it.  Peyton,  feeling  quite  safe  about  Margaret, 


218  THE  LEADER 

since  he  had  surprised  that  meeting  between  her  and 
Hugh  in  the  library,  saw  no  reason  why  he  should  with- 
hold a  generous  meed  of  praise  for  Dalton's  noble  action, 
and  his  words  were  sweeter  to  Margaret  than  the  extrav- 
agant laudations  of  all  the  others.  She  herself  had  said 
little,  but  they  had  been  so  full  of  their  theme  they  had 
not  noticed  her  silence,  or  if  they  had,  were  so  well  assured 
of  her  sympathy  as  not  to  question  it.  It  was  indeed 
very  sweet  to  her  to  hear  Dalton  so  lauded  to  the  skies, 
but  mingled  with  the  sweetness  was  the  ever  present 
sense  of  hurt  that  his  ignoring  her  had  caused  and  the 
constant  remembrance  of  which  affected  her  like  a  dull 
pain,  which  while  it  was  not  an  exquisite  agony,  yet  be- 
gan to  seem  to  her  more  intolerable. 

If  anything  could  sooth  that  ache  it  was  the  walk  from 
the  car  through  beautiful  Devonshire  Place  in  the  dewy 
morning;  the  air  sweet  with  the  fragrance  of  blossoms, 
and  ringing  with  the  songs  of  linnets  and  thrushes,  and 
every  spear  and  leaf  of  the  lush  green  of  grass  and  foliage 
glittering  with  dew-drops  in  the  bright  sunshine.  Hugh, 
who  had  begun  to  fear  from  Margaret's  manner  that  the 
fatigues  of  the  night  had  been  too  great  for  her,  was  glad 
to  see  her  color  coming  back  and  her  eyes  brightening 
with  every  step  of  the  way.  As  he  was  about  to  leave 
her  at  her  door,  she  asked  him  a  question  she  had  been 
trying  to  find  courage  to  ask  all  the  way  home : 

"Do  you  suppose  Mr.  Dalton  will  be  well  enough  to  go 
out  to  Kentwick  with  you  to-morrow,  as  you  expected?" 

Hugh  was  startled. 

"Oh,  I  hope  so!"  he  answered  fervently,  "I've  been 


THE  LEADER  219 

counting  on  it  so.  I  had  not  thought  of  the  possibility 
that  he  would  be  too  ill  to  go.  I  will  call  at  his  hotel 
some  time  to-day  and,  if  he  is  not  really  ill,  I  shall  try  to 
persuade  him  that  there  is  no  such  place  in  which  to  rest 
and  grow  strong  as  Kent  Hall." 

"Very  well,"  answered  Margaret,  smiling  at  his  ardor, 
"If  you  succeed,  remember  our  arrangement  that  we  are 
all  to  meet  here  at  half  past  six  for  a  cup  of  coffee  and  an 
early  start  while  the  morning  is  still  fresh,  and  breakfast 
at  Beauvoir  when  we  get  there.  I  hope  it  will  be  as 
lovely  a  morning  as  this  one." 

John,  lying  in  his  darkened  room  at  the  hotel  sunk  far 
below  the  level  of  life's  noise  and  confusion,  its  victories 
and  defeats,  its  hopes  and  despairs,  in  a  stupor  so  pro- 
found that  it  easily  suggested  to  Hugh,  admitted  to  his 
room  for  a  moment's  interview  with  Seton,  that  deeper 
sleep  to  which  we  all  must  come,  looked  little  enough  like 
being  ready  for  the  trip  to  Kentwick  in  the  morning. 
Seton,  camped  on  a  couch  at  the  side  of  his  bed,  ready  to 
give  any  needed  service  and  especially  ready,  like  a 
faithful  watch-dog,  to  keep  out  intruders;  and  incident- 
ally getting  a  little  needed  sleep  on  his  own  account,  did 
not  think  it  would  be  possible.  But  the  physician  com- 
ing in  at  that  moment,  and  noting  the  slight  moisture 
that  had  taken  the  place  of  the  dry  burning  of  the  skin, 
the  quiet  and  regular  breathing  and  the  pulse  once  more 
normal,  was  inclined  to  think  otherwise.  He  announced 
authoritatively  that,  should  Dalton  awake  from  this  deep 
sleep  refreshed  and  without  fever,  nothing  could  be  better 


220  THE  LEADER 

for  him  than  the  ride  in  the  morning  air  before  the  heat 
of  the  day  set  in,  with  the  rest  and  quiet  of  the  country 
to  follow. 

Six  o'clock  the  next  morning  found  Hugh  at  The 
Southern  in  his  motor-car  waiting  to  know  whether  he 
was  to  go  back  with  no  passengers  or  with  Dalton  and 
Seton,  for  Seton  had  been  included  in  the  invitation. 
Dalton  had  wakened,  as  the  doctor  had  expected  he 
would,  refreshed  from  his  long  sleep,  but  when  Seton  re- 
minded him  of  his  engagement  with  Hugh  and  told  him 
that  the  doctor  gave  his  consent  to  keeping  it,  Dalton 
was  at  first  very  difficult.  He  thought  his  little  illness, 
for  in  his  own  mind  he  regarded  it  as  but  very  slight, 
might  yet  serve  as  a  pretext  for  abandoning  the  visit  to 
Kentwick,  which  now  he  looked  forward  to  with  as  much 
dread  as  he  had  at  first  anticipated  it  with  delight.  But 
Seton,  remembering  the  doctor's  advice,  and  really  be- 
lieving there  could  be  no  better  way  to  make  Dalton  for- 
get his  defeat,  overruled  him:  and  to  Hugh's  delight, 
whose  heart  was  quite  set  on  this  visit,  he  came  down  on 
Seton's  arm,  still  white  and  weak  from  the  effects  of 
fever,  but  professing  himself  quite  able  to  undertake  the 
fifteen  mile  ride. 

It  was  a  trial  he  was  hardly  yet  ready  for,  as  the  car 
turned  into  Devonshire  Place,  to  find  that  the  arrange- 
ments included  an  early  cup  of  coffee  at  the  Le  Beaus. 
He  had  never  been  inside  Margaret's  home,  and  he 
stepped  within  its  doors  with  something  of  the  feeling  of  a 
devotee  entering  a  shrine;  and  Margaret  coming  down 
the  grand  staircase  at  that  moment,  all  in  white  and  ra- 


THE  LEADER  221 

diant  as  the  morning,  every  trace  of  the  fatigue  of  the 
long  night's  vigil  having  vanished  in  sleep,  might  well 
have  seemed  to  him  the  shrine's  divinity.  There  was 
nothing  in  her  manner  of  greeting  Dalton  but  easy 
cordiality  and  the  gentle  solicitude  natural  in  a  hostess 
towards  an  invalid  guest.  Dalton  felt  himself  partially 
restored  to  his  ease,  and  the  rest  of  the  party  coming  in 
almost  immediately  and  surrounding  him  with  eager 
and  warm  inquiries  for  his  welfare,  he  began  to  rather 
enjoy  the  role  of  invalid  which  had,  at  first,  seemed  to 
him  detestable. 

In  the  bright  breakfast  room,  the  morning  sun  touch- 
ing up  to  greater  brilliance  the  bowl  of  gay  garden  flow- 
ers from  Beauvoir  that  decorated  the  center  of  the  table/ 
and  the  fragrant  coffee  dispelling  every  remnant  of  sleepi- 
ness that  the  early  hour  might  have  left,  there  was  soon 
a  happy  confusion  of  voices  that  gave  Dalton  a  sense  of 
cheer  and  courage  far  from  the  feeling  with  which  he  had 
entered  the  house.  He  even  dared  occasionally  to  let  his 
swift  glance  rest  for  a  moment  on  Margaret,  though  al- 
ways he  was  paid  for  his  temerity  by  a  dull  heart  throb 
that  responded  to  the  suggestion  she  gave  of  being  sweet 
home  mistress,  presiding  with  such  ease  and  grace  at  the 
coffee-service. 

He  was  not  sitting  beside  her;  they  had  seated  them- 
selves as  they  pleased,  with  a  lack  of  formality  belonging 
to  an  early  cup  of  coffee,  and  he  had  chosen  a  seat  beside 
Mrs.  Paxton,  for  his  acquaintance  with  her  had  been 
longer  than  with  the  others  and  she  was  nearer  his  own 
age,  with  more  of  the  quiet  ease  and  dignity  belonging 


222  THE  LEADER 

to  her  years  and  which  were  soothing  to  him  in  his  pres- 
ent perturbed  state.  To  Margaret,  the  fact  that  he  had 
not  chosen  a  seat  beside  her  when  he  was  free  to  choose, 
little  as  it  seemed,  sent  a  quick  stab  to  keep  the  dull  pain 
company.  But  pride  was  beginning  to  assert  itself.  No 
doubt  she  had  misunderstood  him,  and  her  sense  of  morti- 
fication that  she  had  too  hastily  assumed  a  feeling  on  his 
part,  kept  her  from  glancing  towards  him  through  the 
meal. 

There  was  not  much  lingering  over  their  coffee  and 
rolls,  and  seven  o'clock  saw  the  two  motor-cars  rolling 
through  the  gates  of  Devonshire  Place  and  speeding  along 
the  King's  Highway  a  mile  or  two  until  they  turned  west 
on  to  the  Natural  Bridge  Rock  road.  From  there  on  it 
was  familiar  ground  to  John.  He  had  traversed  this  road 
but  once,  but  every  winding  of  the  way,  every  hill  and 
valley,  had  been  indelibly  impressed  upon  his  memory. 
There  had  been  many  changes,  of  course,  in  the  sixteen 
years:  roadside  inns  and  country  houses  had  sprung  up 
that  were  not  there  then,  but  the  changes  were  hardly 
so  great  as  might  have  been  expected.  The  city  had 
not  grown  in  this  direction  and  it  was  still  a  country 
road,  with  waving  woods  and  flowery  meadows,  and 
pastures  dotted  with  browsing  cattle,  and  dancing  streams 
spanned  by  picturesque  bridges,  and  with  every  mile  of 
the  swift  rush  through  the  fresh  sweet  air  John's  pulses 
beat  stronger  and  his  courage  steadily  rose. 

Margaret  was  sitting  beside  Hugh  just  in  front  of  him, 
and  at  his  side  in  the  tonneau  was  Julie  Delauney.  Seton 
was  in  the  other  car  with  Peyton  and  Mrs.  Paxton;  and 


THE  LEADER  223 

he  was  grateful  for  the  arrangement;  for  Julie's  incessant 
stream  of  chatter,  directed  almost  entirely  toward  Hugh 
and  Margaret,  interfered  not  at  all  with  his  thoughts, 
while  it  covered  his  silence.  Hugh  turned  often  with 
anxious  inquiries  for  his  welfare,  or  to  point  out  some 
special  beauty  of  the  view  or  some  interesting  landmark, 
but  he  had  his  machine  to  attend  to  and  must,  most  of 
the  time,  keep  on  the  watch  for  frightened  country  teams 
whose  irate  drivers  must  be  delicately  handled  and 
courteously  entreated. 

So  there  was  little  to  break  in  upon  his  thoughts  and 
he  had  time  to  reason  it  all  out  and  to  settle  on  some 
definite  line  of  conduct.  He  had  only  to  lift  his  eyes  to 
see  Margaret,  the  soft  white  of  her  automobile  veil  envel- 
oping her  head  like  a  fleecy  cloud;  if  he  could  also  as 
easily  have  seen  what  was  passing  in  the  brain  beneath 
the  veil,  it  would  have  been  a  help  to  him.  He  could 
not  forget  that  glance  from  his  eyes  to  hers  which  he 
rightly  regarded  an  open  declaration,  and  which  could 
not  be  left  unaccounted  for.  It  seemed  a  long  time 
ago  to  him;  then  hope  had  been  beating  so  high,  he  felt 
so  sure  of  his  final  victory,  it  seemed  no  harm  to  let  his 
eyes  speak  for  him  when  he  intended  so  soon  to  speak  for 
himself.  But  all  that  was  changed.  He  could  not  think 
of  bringing  to  her  his  defeats  and  ruined  hopes  when  he 
had  dreamed  of  bringing  victory  and  a  brilliant  future. 
His  illness  had  no  doubt  helped  to  make  him  unduly 
sensitive.  Courage  and  high  hopes  had  both  gone  down 
in  the  crash  and  he  seemed  to  himself  but  a  forlorn 
wreck,  an  object  of  pity  to  the  more  amiable  of  his  fellow- 


224  THE  LEADER 

men,  of  scorn  to  the  others.  He  foresaw  that  this  week's 
visit  was  going  to  be  a  severe  trial  to  him,  and  he  in- 
tended, if  possible,  on  some  plea  to  cut  it  short.  But,  he 
said  to  himself,  he  had  no  intention  of  slinking  out  of  the 
consequences  of  his  glance;  he  should  find  some  means 
of  making  Margaret  understand  how  his  altered  position 
prevented  him  from  following  it  up. 

Then  still  deeper  depression  settled  upon  him.  Mar- 
garet had  scarcely  addressed  a  word  to  him  since  their 
start,  certainly  no  more  than  the  barest  courtesy  de- 
manded. Very  likely  he  was  presuming  in  thinking  she 
would  expect  any  explanation  from  him.  Very  likely 
she  was  trying  to  make  him  understand  that  any  rela- 
tions into  which  they  had  unconsciously  slipped  in  the 
closeness  of  their  association  through  that  long  night, 
must  now  be  all  changed.  Then,  he  was  the  center  of 
interest  and  laudations,  on  the  possible  road  to  victory; 
now,  he  was  defeated,  discredited,  crushed.  The  Jugger- 
naut had  rolled  over  him,  and,  no  doubt  to  Miss  Le  Beau 
he  was  as  if  he  had  never  been. 

But  the  wine  of  the  morning  air  could  not  be  poured 
through  his  lungs  and  sent  racing  through  his  veins  with- 
out having  its  due  effect.  Cling  as  he  might,  with  an 
invalid's  unreason,  to  his  sense  of' being  ill-treated  by  the 
world  and  to  the  cherished  gloom  accompanying  that 
sense,  his  depression  insensibly  lightened.  Gliding 
swiftly  up  hills  and  sliding  smoothly  down  them,  recog- 
nizing many  a  landmark  as  it  flashed  by  him,  he  could 
not  but  contrast  this  swift  rush  through  the  glorious  air 
with  his  patient  plodding  over  the  same  course  sixteen 


THE  LEADER  225 

years  before.  And  with  those  memories  returned  the 
vivid  picture  of  the  little  Peggy  who  had  so  generously 
braved  her  brother's  displeasure  for  him.  The  truest 
way  to  interpret  the  woman  was  by  the  child.  Unless 
the  life  of  a  society  woman,  spent  in  a  round  of  frivolities 
and  in  an  atmosphere  of  adulation,  had  changed  the 
child's  nature,  she  was  incapable  of  the  fair-weather  mo- 
tives with  which  he  had  been  charging  her.  And  to  his 
logical  mind  it  at  once  occurred  that  there  was  no  more 
reason  why  a  life  spent  in  achieving  social  ambitions 
should  have  a  demoralizing  effect  than  a  life  spent 
in  achieving  political  ambitions,  into  which  the  sweet 
poison  of  adulation  entered  as  insidiously  as  into  the 
career  of  a  society  belle.  He  could  look  back  on  his  own 
life  and  see  that  he  was  not  radically  changed  from  the 
young  man  to  whom  Peggy  had  given  a  curl,  and  his 
spirits  went  up  with  a  great  bound  as  he  decided  that  she 
was  probably  of  the  same  sweet,  generous,  impulsive 
nature  as  the  child  had  been.  His  course  lay  plain  be- 
fore him.  All  the  frank,  cordial  friendliness  that  an 
older  man  might  extend  to  a  younger  woman  it  would 
be  his  duty  and  his  pleasure  to  extend  to  Margaret,  and 
he  believed  it  would  be  an  easy  matter  to  keep  out  of  his 
manner  any  hint  of  a  less  impersonal  feeling. 

He  had  just  come  to  this  happy  conclusion  when  they 
turned  into  Le  Beau  Way,  and  he  recognized  it  at  once 
and  knew  just  how  many  right  angled  turns  they  must 
make  before  reaching  the  entrance  to  Beauvoir,  for  he 
had  been  informed  of  the  plan  to  breakfast  there.  He 
recognized  the  Kentwick  Club,  as  they  passed  it,  and  he 


226  THE  LEADER 

was  in  the  act  of  saying  to  himself — "A  long  stretch,  a 
turn,  another  stretch  and  then  the  red  gravel  entrance 
to  Beauvoir,  where  I  frightened  Peggy's  horses" — when 
the  car  made  a  sudden  turn  into  a  road  running  along  a 
fence  through  a  cornfield.  John  did  not  know  of  this 
short  cut,  and  so  vividly  had  he  been  recalling  to  himself 
each  step  of  the  way,  that  he  could  not  restrain  a  sudden 
start  and  exclamation  of  surprise. 

Margaret  turned  quickly  and  looked  at  him  wonder- 
ingly,  and  Julie  exclaimed: 

"Why,  Mr.  Dalton,  have  you  ever  been  here  before?" 

"Never!"  said  John  promptly;  and  he  did  not  consider 
that  he  was  evading  the  truth,  since  he  had  never  been 
on  the  Beauvoir  estate,but  he  could  not  control  a  twinkle 
in  his  eye,  as,  for  the  first  time  during  the  ride,  he  caught 
Margaret's,  and  pictured  to  himself  her  astonishment 
should  he  tell  her  how  well  he  remembered  the  road  and 
the  child,  and  that  he  was  her  "tramp"  friend  of  years 
ago. 

Vague  memories  stirred  Margaret's  mind  at  that  twin- 
kle. Somewhere  she  had  seen  it  before.  Perhaps  in 
some  pre-existent  state  she  had  known  Dalton,  and  as 
she  slowly  turned  back  in  her  seat  and  they  glided  swiftly 
by  the  farmhouse,  the  orchards,  the  vineyards  and  the 
barns,  she  was  racking  her  brain  and  evoking  every  fad- 
ing memory  to  account  for  the  familiarity  of  those  smil- 
ing eyes. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

MISS  MOLLY'S  MESSAGE. 

There  could  have  been  no  surer  way,  for  Dalton,  of 
undermining  Tia  Elisa's  prejudices  and  taking  by  storm 
the  citadel  of  her  friendship,  than  by  presenting  himself 
to  her  in  the  role  of  an  invalid. 

She  was  waiting  for  them  on  the  side  verandah,  for 
Hugh  had  sounded  his  horn  as  they  turned  into  the  corn- 
field to  give  warning  of  their  approach,  and  as  they 
swept  round  the  circle  at  the  rear  of  the  house  and  came 
to  an  almost  imperceptible  stop  at  the  horse-block,  the 
sweet  old  face,  wreathed  in  smiles  of  welcome,  caught 
Dalton's  glance  and  attracted  him  swiftly  and  power- 
fully. Hardly  less  sudden  was  Tia  Elisa's  capitulation. 
When  she  saw  Hugh  spring  from  his  place  and,  hardly 
waiting  to  help  Margaret  down,  hasten  to  give  his  arm 
to  Dalton,  who  had  stepped  out  and  was  helping  Julie 
out,  and  when  she  saw  him  looking  white  and  exhausted 
— for  the  ride,  while  no  doubt  it  had  done  him  a  world  of 
good,  had  also  tired  him  greatly — her  motherly  heart 
was  filled  at  once  with  a  pity  that  with  her  was  always 
kin  to  the  warmest  friendship.  She  hardly  noticed  the 
others  with  more  than  a  bare  and  general  greeting,  in 
such  haste  was  she  to  run  back  to  the  living  room  and 
see  that  a  couch  was  ready  where  Dalton  might  rest  from 
his  ride. 

Of  course  he  resisted  being  treated  as  an  invalid,  and 
scorned  any  suggestion  that  he  was  unduly  tired.  But 


228  THE  LEADER 

there  was  no  withstanding  Tia  Elisa's  gentle  imperious- 
ness,  and  somewhat  to  his  embarrassment  and  even  more 
to  his  amusement,  he  found  himself  tucked  up  in  mother- 
ly fashion  on  the  couch,  and  the  younger  people  hovering 
fussily  about  him  with  ridiculous  proffers  of  service,  and 
with  a  kindly  intention  of  relieving  his  embarrassment, 
should  he  be  feeling  any. 

"Let  me  get  you  another  pillow!"  "Oh,  do  let  me 
bathe  your  brow  with  ice  water!"  "Wouldn't  you  like 
a  hot-water  bag  at  your  feet?"  "Take  my  smelling- 
bottle,  do!"  they  chanted  in  chorus. 

Tia  Elisa,  who  thought  they  were  taking  unwarranta- 
ble liberties  with  so  great  a  man,  was  scandalized,  but 
John  himself,  being  still  of  that  over-grown  boy-nature 
that  enjoys  a  joke  even  at  his  own  expense,  entered  into 
the  spirit  of  the  play  with  zest. 

He  noticed  that  Margaret  alone  stood  aloof,  looking 
on  with  a  smile  that  strove  to  appear  sympathetic  but 
with  difficulty  concealed  scorn,  and  John,  having  decided 
upon  a  course  of  frank  friendliness,  thought  this  was  the 
time  to  begin  upon  it. 

"Miss  Le  Beau,"  he  said,  "you  are  letting  the  others 
do  it  all;  won't  you  offer  to  sit  beside  me  and  fan  me?" 

He  saw  at  once  that  he  had  blundered,  and  that  Mar- 
garet resented  his  playful  speech,  which  did  indeed  sound 
to  her  like  coarse  buffoonery,  wholly  unworthy  the 
ideal  she  had  been  cherishing  of  the  man.  Still  strug- 
gling to  preserve  an  air  of  enjoying  the  play,  she 
answered  him,  but  his  sensitive  ear  easily  recognized 
the  coldness  in  her  tones : 


TltE  LEADER  229 

"Certainly,  with  pleasure.  Only  permit  me  first  to  go 
upstairs  and  remove  the  dust  of  our  ride.  Girls,  if  you 
think  you  have  made  Mr.  Dalton  sufficiently  comfortable, 
perhaps  you  would  like  to  get  ready  for  breakfast." 

"Go,  my  children!"  said  John,  dismissing  them  with 
a  benign  wave  of  his  hand.  "Do  not  think  of  me !  Leave 
me  to  my  fate!" 

The  stairway  ascended  from  one  end  of  the  big  living 
room  where  John  was  lying,  drowsily  enjoying  his  en- 
forced rest,  now  that  they  had  left  him  alone;  all  the  doors 
and  windows  open  to  the  sweet  soft  air,  and  the  peaceful 
sounds  of  country  life  coming  to  him  mellowed  by  dis- 
tance. 

Margaret,  coming  down  the  staircase  fifteen  minutes 
later,  stopped  a  moment  on  the  landing  as  she  caught 
sight  of  his  pale  face,  looking  worn  and  older  than  it  had 
seemed  to  her  of  late,  from  lines  that  had  made  their 
appearance  within  the  last  two  days.  He  was  apparent- 
ly sleeping,  and  she  was  filled  with  quick  compunction 
that  she  had  allowed  herself  to  feel  almost  disgust  with 
his  attempts  at  being  playful.  If,  after  all  he  had  been 
through,  he  had  any  spirit  left  for  such  child's  play,  she 
ought  to  have  been  glad.  She  went  on  down  the  stair- 
case, stepping  lightly  so  as  not  to  waken  him;  but  the 
soft  swish  of  her  skirts  roused  John  who  was  not  really 
sleeping. 

"Miss  Le  Beau,"  he  said  quickly,  "I  have  offended  you. 
I'm  afraid  you  thought  my  speech  rude,  but  it  was  not 
intended  to  be ;  only  I  am  always  a  blunderer  with  women, 
I  fear.  I  have  talked  to  them  so  little." 


230  THE  LEADER 

"If  I  was  offended,"  answered  Margaret,  "it  was  horrid 
of  me.  I  hope  I  am  not  a  nasty  little  prig,  who  can  not 
take  a  joke."  Which  she  was  assuring  herself  was  ex- 
actly what  she  had  been. 

John  shook  himself  loose  from  his  pillows  and  his  rugs 
and  sat  erect. 

"Your  aunt  has  made  a  new  man  of  me.  I  suppose  I 
really  needed  that  forty  winks  after  the  long  ride — it's 
absurd  how  weak  a  slight  illness  will  leave  one.  But 
Miss  Le  Beau,  I  will  not  let  you  call  yourself  names,  even 
if  you  do  think  you  deserve  them,"  and  John  looked  up 
at  her  with  his  laughing  eyes  to  show  her  how  well  he  had 
read  her  thoughts.  Then  he  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a 
suddenness  that  made  him  giddy  for  a  moment: 

"But  here!  I  am  letting  you  stand!  Will  you  not  sit 
down?"  and  he  awkwardly  pushed  towards  her  a  big 
chair. 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Margaret,  "If  you  are  really  able  to  be 
up,  you  must  be  getting  ready  for  breakfast.  I  will  send 
Gaston  to  take  you  upstairs,"  for  Gaston  was  at  that 
moment  passing  the  open  door  chasing  a  squawking  hen. 
She  called  to  him  and  he  called  back : 

"Jes  a  minit,  Miss  Margrut.  Miss  'Lisa  done  tole  me 
drive  dat  ole  hen  out  quick,  foah  she  scratch  up  all  her 
posey  seeds." 

The  minute  gave  John  time  to  utter  a  predetermined 
speech : 

"Almost  everyone  else,  Miss  Le  Beau,  has  made  me  a 
pretty  address  of  welcome  to  Kentwick;  am  I  to  have 
none  from  you?" 


THE  LEADER  231 

"Most  of  all  from  me,"  answered  Margaret,  looking  up 
at  him  gravely,  "I  am  very  proud  and  happy  to  have  you 
within  the  walls  of  Beauvoir." 

Gaston,  having  driven  the  old  hen  back  to  the  chicken 
yard,  came  up  panting  to  conduct  John  upstairs,  and 
gave  him  no  chance  to  say  anything  more  than  an  earnest 
"Thank  you."' 

If  it  had  been  a  party  of  boys  and  girls  trooping  into 
the  breakfast  room,  they  could  hardly  have  been  more 
noisily  merry  as  they  seated  themselves  about  the  gener- 
ous round  table,  where  a  dozen  could  easily  have  found 
room  without  elbowing  each  other.  It  was  only  nine 
o'clock,  but  their  early  rising  and  their  long  ride  had  put 
an  edge  on  their  appetites  that  their  preliminary  coffee 
and  roll  could  not  dull.  Tia  Elisa  believed  in  no  modern 
breakfasts  of  coffee  and  rolls,  no,  nor  of  eggs  and  toast. 
There  were  delicious  melons  for  a  fruit  course,  fragrant  as 
flowers  and  tinkling  with  cracked  ice;  and  there  was  a 
wholesome  breakfast  porridge,  swimming  in  yellow 
cream  for  a  second  course — so  far  had  she  yielded  to 
modern  tastes — but  then  came  what  Tia  Elisa  called 
breakfast.  Never  were  there  more  juicy  and  toothsome 
broiled  chickens,  set  on  the  table  before  Tia  Elisa  and 
served  on  a  great  platter  in  a  nest  of  cresses  crisp  from 
the  brook  that  ran  through  the  Beauvoir  meadows.  The 
platter  of  chicken  was  flanked  on  one  side  by  a  generous 
dish  of  creamed  potato  balls,  flecked  with  parsley,  and 
on  the  other  by  a  platter  of  fried  mush  crisp  and  golden 
in  color.  Margaret  poured  the  coffee  into  cups  as  trans- 


232  THE  LEADER 

parent  as  the  cups  of  Devonshire  Place,  but  more  gener- 
ous in  size,  and  Gaston  and  Clotilde  glided  noiselessly 
back  and  forth  with  relays  of  dainty  little  breakfast 
rolls,  so  hot  they  must  be  handled  with  a  napkin;  and 
then,  with  a  quick  change  of  plates,  brought  in  the  ten- 
der and  delicately  browned  waffles  without  which  last 
course  Tia  Elisa  considered  no  breakfast  complete.  Mar- 
garet and  Peyton  might  laugh  at  her  as  they  would  for 
her  substantial  ideas  of  the  morning  meal;  at  Beauvoir 
she  had  her  way,  while  Margaret  and  Peyton  had  theirs 
in  Devonshire  Place. 

But  Margaret  and  Peyton  were  doing  no  scant  justice 
to  her  bounty  this  morning  and  no  one  else  was  doing 
less  than  they.  Hugh  and  Seton  were  doing  their  whole 
duty  staunchly  by  each  course,  like  men,  and  the  women 
were  doing  theirs  daintily,  as  became  them,  but  with  a 
very  good  will.  Save  for  his  morning  roll,  Dalton  had 
eaten  nothing  since  the  evening  before  that  long  night 
session,  but  now  he  ate  his  fruit  and  his  porridge,  his 
chicken  and  his  roll  with  a  return  of  appetite  that  sur- 
prised him,  and  left  him  feeling  more  like  a  well  man  than 
he  had  felt  in  days. 

Through  the  open  windows  on  two  sides  of  the  room 
they  looked  out  into  the  rich  green  of  midsummer 
towards  the  orchards  and  the  vineyards  and  towards 
Tia  Elisa's  quaint,  oldfashioned  flower  garden,  a  spot  of 
brilliant  color  amid  the  green.  Dalton  was  facing  the 
wide  door  into  the  living  room,  and  through  that  door 
and  through  the  windows  beyond  was  framed  in  succes- 
sive arches  of  foliage,  where  the  limbs  of  the  trees  had 


THE  LEADER  233 

been  cut  away  for  the  sake  of  the  views,  and  giving  it  all 
the  effect  of  an  antique  triptych,  a  picture  that  Consta- 
ble might  have  painted.  To  the  left  in  one  arch,  were 
upland  meadows  dotted  with  the  graceful  sheaves  of  gar- 
nered wheat  and  above  and  beyond  them,  the  towers  of 
Kent  Hall  in  clustering  foliage;  to  the  right,  a  broad  ex- 
panse of  the  Beauvoir  fields  and  meadows,  dropping 
down  in  rapid  slopes  to  the  valley  through  which  the 
railroad  passed,  and  where,  at  this  moment,  a  long  plume 
of  billowing  smoke  showed  that  a  train  was  passing. 
The  central  arch,  the  highest  of  the  three,  framed  the 
loveliest  picture  of  all:  the  long  white  winding  road 
climbing  the  distant  hill  on  whose  crest  the  little  village 
of  Florrissant  perched,  the  spire  of  the  old  French 
church  rising  from  the  midst  of  the  clustering  white  cot- 
tages, half  buried  in  tall  old  trees,  like  a  good  priest  with 
his  flock  around  him  pointing  the  way  to  heaven. 

From  the  belfry  in  that  distant  spire  came  now  the 
faint  and  musical  sound  of  church-bells.  They  had  lin- 
gered long  at  the  table  and  at  the  sound  Helen  and  Julie, 
who  were  both  good  Catholics,  excused  themselves  hast- 
ily since  they  would  not  miss  the  morning  mass.  The 
Protestants,  save  Tia  Elisa,  were  not  quite  so  conscient- 
ious about  their  religious  duties,  but  Tia  Elisa  proposed, 
since  they  were  too  far  from  their  own  church  to  reach  il 
now  in  time  for  service,  that  they  should  all  accompany 
Julie  and  Helen  to  the  old  French  church  in  the  little 
French  village  where  no  protestant  spire  would  dare  lift 
its  head. 

It  was  a  plan  that  pleased  them  all,  only  Hugh  object- 


234  THE  LEADER 

ing  that  Mr.  Dalton  was  not  strong  enough  to  undergo 
any  more  fatigue  this  morning,  and  while  the  others 
went  to  church  he  would  take  him  over  to  Kent  Hall  and 
let  him  rest  in  his  own  room.  But  John  would  not  listen 
to  this: 

"Nonsense!"  he  said,  "I  am  an  invalid  no  longer. 
Broiled  chickens  and  melons  and  porridge  have  done 
their  work,  and  I  am  fit  for  anything.  But  I've  a  plan 
of  my  own,  if  you  will  only  accept  it.  Will  you  all  go  to 
church,  please,  and  let  me  stay  here  until  you  come  back? 
If  I  can  sit  out  on  that  verandah  for  an  hour  of  perfect 
country  quiet  and  beautiful  country  views,  my  cure  will 
be  completed." 

They  were  loath  to  leave  him  alone  at  first,  Hugh, 
particularly,  feeling  that  he  was  not  properly  playing  the 
host,  but  John  seemed  so  genuinely  and  so  ardently  to 
desire  it  for  some  reason,  that  they  yielded  finally  and 
went  off  in  the  two  motor  cars,  gliding  smoothly  down 
the  red  gravel  of  the  drive  and  waving  their  good-byes 
to  John,  at  ease  in  a  comfortable  chair  on  the  verandah. 

He  had  really  desired  it.  An  hour  alone  with  the  per- 
fect peace  and  beauty  of  Beauvoir,  it  seemed  to  him, 
would  be  the  best  tonic  in  the  world,  and,  moreover,  he 
greatly  needed  a  little  time  for  thinking.  His  thoughts 
•vere  still  in  the  confusion  in  which  his  brief  illness  had 
left  them  and  he  felt  it  was  time  to  straighten  them  out. 
He  had  some  political  problems  to  meet — the  course  he 
would  take  in  the  coming  campaign  being  the  one  that 
he  knew  the  party  leaders  were  anxiously  questioning 
and  that  he  must  soon  decide — but  he  was  not  just  now 


THE  LEADER  235 

going  to  trouble  himself  about  politics.  It  was  his  per- 
sonal affairs  that  were  disturbing  him.  He  had  found, 
in  the  brief  hours  he  had  spent  at  Beauvoir,  it  was  going 
to  be  more  difficult  for  him  tb  in  he  had  supposed  to  keep 
up  the  mask  of  frank  and  unconcerned  friendliness  tow- 
ards Margaret  that  he  had  proposed  for  himself.  Here, 
in  the  home  of  her  childhood,  his  thoughts  were  con- 
stantly reverting  to  the  little  Peggy  of  old;  and  the  beau- 
tiful woman  of  to-day  was  confused  in  his  thoughts  with 
the  lovely  child  of  other  days  in  a  fashion  that  made 
her  infinitely  more  attractive  to  John  and  left  him  still 
more  defenselessly  at  her  mercy. 

He  listened  to  the  chug-chug  of  the  machines  as  they 
turned  from  the  drive  into  Le  Beau  Way.  Intervening 
trees  and  shrubbery  on  the  wide  lawn  and  the  high 
hedge  at  its  boundaries  screened  them  from  his  sight, 
but  listening,  he  could  easily  tell  when  they  had  turned 
the  first  right  angle  that  he  remembered  so  well  and  were 
now  on  their  straight  way  to  Florrissant.  He  waited  till 
he  could  see  in  the  distance  two  toy  cars  climbing  the 
white  road  to  the  spire  among  the  trees,  and  then,  with 
the  air  of  a  school  boy  guiltily  sneaking  off,  intent  on 
forbidden  pleasures,  he  glanced  around  him  to  be  sure 
the  coast  was  clear  and,  with  an  exaggerated  air  of  indif- 
ference, descended  from  the  verandah  and  sauntered 
across  the  lawn  towards  the  red  gravel  drive. 

He  was  curiously  eager  to  revisit  that  steep  turn  into 
Le  Beau  Way  where  he  had  met  the  child  for  the  second 
time.  There  it  was — the  turn  not  quite  so  steep  perhaps 
as  memory  had  pictured  it,  but  steep  enough  to  have 


236  THE  LEADER 

caused  disaster  had  he  not  been  there  to  prevent  what 
he  had  himself  precipitated.  He  sat  down  under  the 
spreading  oak  that  sentinelled  the  entrance  to  the  Beau- 
voir  grounds,  and  went  br.ck  in  thought  to  the  young 
man  who  had  talked  to  the  child  that  day.  He  remem- 
bered his  high  hopes  and  his  vaulting  ambitions,  and  he 
remembered  too,  the  dauntless  energy  and  the  weary 
days  and  nights  of  toil  that  had  won  for  the  boy  the  fru- 
ition of  his  hopes.  Was  it  all  dead  fruit?  Was  this  the 
glittering  goal  toward  which  that  boy — he  was  thinking 
of  him  tenderly,  as  one  he  had  known  and  loved  and  lost 
— was  striving  so  eagerly?  Defeated,  crushed  by  the 
machine,  discredited  with  his  party!  The  people  had 
loved  him,  but  he  knew  too  well  the  fickleness  of  the  peo- 
ple! Their  love  would  not  long  survive  his  loss  of  pres- 
tige and  power.  Was  this  the  end? 

There  was  a  poem  John  had  read  once,  which,  like 
everything  that  made  any  impression  upon  him,  clung 
to  his  memory.  He  did  not  like  it ;  it  had  always  haunted 
him  with  a  prophecy  of  coming  doom.  It  was  of  the 
zenith  once  reached,  that  thereon  the  path  must  be 
downward:  The  beautiful  woman  sees  herself  one  time 
in  the  glass  in  the  very  zenith  of  her  charms,  but  never 
again  are  the  eyes  so  bright,  the  cheeks  so  smooth  and 
delicately  tinted,  wrinkles  and  grey  hairs  follow  soon : 
The  wonderful  singer  sings  once  as  she  has  never  sung 
before,  ravishing  the  hearts  of  all  who  listen;  from  that 
hour  the  voice  begins  to  fail,  until  she,  who  moved  men 
to  madness  with  her  music,  could  only  move  them  to 
derisive  laughter.  He  had  always  resented  the  theory 


THE  LEADER  237 

and  he  had  wondered  that  one  who  could  sing  so  perfectly 
of  the  true,  the  good  and  the  beautiful,  should  send  out 
into  the  world  such  fatalistic  verses  to  depress  the  minds 
of  men  who  need  rather  to  be  uplifted.  Moreover  he 
had  denied  their  truth:  For  him  there  should  be  no 
zenith — but  to  the  very  end  his  path  should  be  on- 
ward and  upward.  For  the  first  time  he  began  to  fear 
they  might  be  true.  Had  he  not  passed  his  zenith? 
Would  he  ever  again  see  thousands  go  wild  at  the  sight 
of  him,  hang  on  his  lips  as  if  from  them  came  the  words 
of  life,  and  shout  his  name  with  all  the  abandon  of  idola- 
trous affection?  Was  his  path  henceforth  to  lead  stead- 
ily downwards  until  it  should  be  lost  in  obscurity  and  he 
himself  forgotten;  but  a  name  to  arouse  men's  derision? 

They  were  not  cheerful  musings.  John's  eyes  had 
been  fastened  on  the  turf  at  his  feet,  now  he  lifted  them, 
and  through  the  green  of  the  leaves  above  him  he  saw 
the  deep  blue  of  the  midsummer  sky  with  stray  wisps  of 
fleecy  white  gently  drifting  over  it.  John  shook  himself 
and  flung  back  his  head  with  his  old  gesture.  "It's 
false!"  he  said  to  himself,  "I'll  stick  to  my  old  motto — 
victory  out  of  defeat!"  And  then  he  added  with  a  wist- 
ful smile — "But  I'll  have  to  give  up  Peggy  for  the  present 
and  perhaps  the  other  fellow'll  get  her." 

As  he  rose  to  start  back  to  the  house,  his  glance  fell  on 
a  figure  coming  up  the  road  that  had  a  strangely  familiar 
air.  He  had  seen  Miss  Molly  but  once,  but  there  was  no 
doubt  in  his  mind  that  this  was  Miss  Molly — the  brisk- 
ness of  her  walk,  the  neatness  of  her  dress,  the  animation 
of  her  countenance,  plainly  visible  at  this  distance  when 


238  THE  LEADER 

he  could  scarcely  distinguish  a  feature,  comd  belong  to 
no  other.  He  waited  for  her  to  come  up  and  saw  in  her 
face  that  it  was  her  intention  to  turn  into  Beauvoir.  He 
took  off  his  hat  in  response  to  the  usual  country  greeting 
from  her — "Howdy!" 

"I'm  just  goin'  up  to  Beauvoir  a  minute,"  Miss  Molly 
continued,  with  a  feeling  that  her  presence  demanded  an 
explanation,  "to  see  Miss  Margaret  and  Mr.  Peyton.  I've 
got  a  message  for  them." 

"They  are  not  at  home,"  said  Dalton.  "The  family 
has  gone  to  church." 

"For  the  land's  sake!"  said  Miss  Molly  politely,  and  in 
her  company  style,  without  drawl  or  emphasis.  Then 
a  sudden  suspicion  entered  her  mind. 

"They  didn't  go  to  Franklin,  or  I'd  have  seen  them 
pass  the  house!" 

"No,"  said  Dalton,  "They  went  to  Florrissant." 

Miss  Molly  sniffed  audibly : 

"I  don't  call  that  goin'  to  church,  I  call  it  goin'  to 
mass,"  she  said  severely.  Miss  Molly  had  no  patience 
with  Protestants  who  went  to  Catholic  services,  and  con- 
sidered that  in  so  doing  they  had  done  their  Sunday 
morning  duty.  "You  don't  ketch  them  comin'  to  our 
church,"  she  was  wont  to  argue  with  such  weak  sticklers 
for  their  own  religious  respect. 

Dalton  had  no  views  of  his  own  on  this  subject  and  so, 
as  he  offered  none,  Miss  Molly  was  deprived  of  the  pleas- 
ure of  using  her  favorite  argument,  which  she  regarded 
as  a  clincher.  Instead  he  said: 

"Can't  I  deliver  your  message  for  you?    Or  will  you 


THE  LEADER  239 

come  up  and  wait  until  they  return?" 

Miss  Molly  wanted  to  wait.  It  was  not  often  that  she 
found  time  for  a  visit  to  Beauvoir,  and  it  was  a  hot  and 
dusty  walk  from  her  home  in  the  little  village  of  Kent- 
wick,  or  even  from  the  station-house  which  was  this  side 
of  the  village.  She  was  quite  sure  Mr.  Peyton  would 
find  some  way  of  sending  her  home  and  so  save  her  the 
heat  and  fatigue  of  the  return  walk.  But  she  had  also  a 
fine  sense  of  propriety,  and  in  her  code  it  was  hardly  the 
correct  thing  to  spend  the  quarter,  or  possibly  half  hour, 
she  would  have  to  wait,  talking  to  a  strange  man  to  whom 
she  had  not  been  introduced.  This  code  did  not,  of 
course,  apply  to  the  station-house — there  she  was  an 
official  and  at  home,  and  had  Dalton  put  in  an  appear- 
ance there  she  would  have  thought  it  her  duty  as  well  as 
her  pleasure  to  entertain  him  to  the  best  of  her  ability, 
whether  introduced  or  not. 

Dalton  saw  her  hesitation  and  thought  he  understood 
it. 

"I  hope  you  will  decide  to  come  up  to  the  house  and 
wait;  they'll  be  home  very  soon,  I  am  sure,"  he  said,  and 
then  he  added— "This  is  Miss  Molly,  isn't  it?" 

"For  the  1-a-n-d-s  sake!1'  ejaculated  Miss  Molly, 
startled  out  of  her  company  style  this  time.  "How  d'you 
know  who  I  was?" 

"Oh,  I  have  heard  of  you,"  said  John,  smiling,  "And 
let  me  introduce  myself;  then  we  can  talk  at  our  ease — 
my  name  is  Dalton." 

"For  the  1-a-n-d-s  SAKE!"  said  Miss  Molly,  this  time 
with  triple  emphasis.  "Are  you  Dalton?  Why,  I'd 


240  THE  LEADER 

never  have  dreampt  it !  I  supposed  he  was  quite  an  elder- 
ly gentleman — middle-aged  like,  at  least!" 

If  Miss  Molly  had  been  the  most  consummate  of  flat- 
terers, she  could  have  found  no  words  that  would  have 
pleased  John  so  well.  At  the  very  moment  that  he  was 
feeling  old  and  past  his  zenith,  to  have  her  innocent  testi- 
mony to  his  appearance  of  youth,  soothed  and  comforted 
him  immeasureably.  All  men  are  vain,  and  great  men  a 
little  vainer,  perhaps,  than  others;  for  the  greater  a  man 
is  the  more  childlike  he  is,  and  the  vanity  of  a  man  is  but 
the  naivete*  of  his  childhood  remaining  to  him  in  his  man- 
hood in  greater  or  less  measure,  in  proportion  to  the  sim- 
plicity of  his  nature.  John  had  his  share  of  vanity,  and 
Miss  Molly's  simple  words  did  more  to  heal  his  wounded 
self  esteem  and  renew  his  courage  than  the  intentional 
cheer  of  a  wiser  friend. 

After  that,  there  was  nothing  would  do  but  Miss 
Molly  must  wait;  and  they  turned  and  walked  up  to  the 
house  together  under  the  shade  of  the  avenue  of  lindens 
and  maples,  the  load  in  John's  breast  growing  lighter 
every  moment  in  listening  to  Miss  Molly's  simple  chatter. 
They  sat  down  on  the  verandah  and  so  beguiling  was 
Miss  Molly,  that  although  the  beautiful  picture  of  the 
Florrissant  church  framed  in  its  arch  of  foliage  was  just 
before  him,  he  did  not  see  the  two  motor  cars  come 
down  the  winding  white  hill-road,  and  it  was  Miss  Molly 
who  first  heard  their  faint  chug-chug  in  the  distance. 

"There  they  come!"  she  exclaimed,  and  a  moment 
later  they  heard  Hugh's  horn  blown  at  the  first  right 
le  of  Le  Beau  Way  to  announce  their  coming.  They 


THE  LEADER  241 

swept  up  the  gravel  drive  in  grand  style,  Peyton  bring- 
ing up  the  rear  alone  in  his  car,  for  he  had  left  Seton  and 
Julie  and  Helen  at  Kent  Hall. 

"Howdy,  Miss  Molly,  howdy!"  Peyton  and  Hugh 
called  from  a  distance,  waving  their  hats  to  her.  Miss 
Molly  kept  up  a  quick  succession  of  excited  little  nods 
wreathed  in  smiles  until  the  two  cars  stopped  at  the 
verandah  and  Margaret  ran  up  the  steps  and  kissed  her 
warmly,  and  Tia  Elisa,  following  more  sedately,  kissed 
her  just  as  heartily,  and  Hugh  and  Peyton  made  an 
exaggerated  pretense  of  being  about  to  follow  their  ex- 
ample. 

Miss  Molly  was  not  afraid;  she  knew  there  was  no 
danger  of  their  carrying  out  their  threat,  but  she  liked 
to  draw  quickly  back  and  bridle  like  a  girl  while  she 
uttered  her  favorite  exclamation: 

"For  the  1-a-n-d-s  sake!"  Behave  yourselves,  can't 
you?  Anybody'd  think  you  were  two  big  boys  from  the 
way  you  carry  on." 

Tia  Elisa  and  Margaret  insisted  she  must  take  off  her 
.  hat  and  stay  to  dinner,  but  that  was  impossible.  Miss 
Molly  must  be  back  to  the  station  in  time  for  the  one 
o'clock  train  to  San  Carlos,  and  of  course  if  she  had  to 
be  on  duty  at  the  station  there  was  no  use  in  insisting, 
and  Miss  Molly  reminding  herself  that  it  was  time  she 
was  getting  back,  Hugh  offered  to  run  her  down  in  his 
car. 

"I'll  just  drop  Mr.  Dalton  at  the  house,  Miss  Molly, 
it  won't  take  a  minute  longer,  and  then  I'll  run  you  on 
down  in  plenty  of  time  for  your  train." 


242  THE  LEADER 

"No,  if  you  please,"  interposed  John,  "I'm  not  to  be 
arbitrarily  deprived  of  any  of  Miss  Molly's  society.  I'll 
go  with  you  both  to  the  station." 

Miss  Molly,  in  a  delightful  flutter  at  the  stir  she  had 
been  making,  and  particularly  at  so  gallant  a  speech 
from  so  great  a  man,  seated  herself  in  the  tonneau  with 
Dalton  beside  her,  and  Hugh  cranked  his  engine. 

"Did  you  deliver  your  message?"  inquired  John. 

"For  the  1-a-n-d-s  sake,  no/"  exclaimed  Miss  Molly, 
with  a  frightened  glance  at  John  and  a  guilty  blush. 
For  it  had  been  solely  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  great 
Dalton  that  she  had  offered  to  carry  the  message,  and 
in  the  excitement  of  satisfying  her  curiosity  so  thor- 
oughly, she  had  entirely  forgotten  it. 

"Mr.  Hugh,  wait  a  minute,  please,"  she  said  hurriedly. 
"Mr.  Peyton,"  calling  up  to  him  where  he  stood  at  the 
verandah  rail,  "I've  a  message  I  most  forgot  to  deliver. 
French  Jean  went  down  to  the  city  on  the  eight  o'clock 
this  morning  and  he  asked  me,  if  I  saw  any  of  the  folks 
from  Beauvoir  or  Kent  Hall,  to  tell  them  there's  another 
fine  possum  in  the  South  Woods,  and  if  you'd  like  to  go 
after  it  to-morrow  night,  the  moon'll  be  all  right  by 
twelve  o'clock." 

There  was  no  time  to  stop  for  a  discussion  if  they 
would  get  Miss  Molly  to  the  station  in  time  for  "the  one 
o'clock,"  but  Hugh  called  back  from  his  driving  seat  in 
the  car: 

"That  possum  belongs  to  Margaret  and  me,  Peyton, 
but  you're  all  coming  to  tea  this  evening  and  we'll  talk 
it  over." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

IN  THE  SOUTH   WOODS. 

They  talked  it  over  to  such  good  purpose,  that  French 
Jean  was  notified  to  have  everything  in  readiness  by 
twelve  the  next  night  for  a  start  from  Beauvoir,  where 
the  meet  was  agreed  upon,  since  it  lay  directly  in  the 
route  from  Kent  Hall  to  the  South  Woods. 

Frank  and  John  talked  it  over  in  John's  room  in  the 
afternoon  where  Frank  had  come  for  a  little  smoke  and 
quiet  talk.  The  Beauvoir  people  would  be  over  to  tea 
when  it  would  be  fully  discussed  and  settled,  and  John 
wanted  his  decision  made  before  that  time. 

"I'm  not  going  to  the  possum  hunt,"  said  John,  in  a 
tone  of  finality  that  seemed  to  admit  of  no  discussion. 

"No,"  answered  Frank  regretfully,  "I  was  afraid  you 
wouldn't  feel  up  to  it." 

"Nonsense!"  said  John  with  unusual  irritation,  for  he 
was  growing  very  tired  of  the  role  of  invalid.  "I'm  up 
to  anything,  as  far  as  my  health  goes.  Another  day  of 
this  Kentwick  air  and  I'll  be  in  better  condition  than 
I've  been  for  months." 

"Why  don't  you  go  then?"  was  Frank's  very  natural 
query. 

"Oh,  I'm  too  old  and — settled,  I  suppose  you'd  call  it, 
for  such  a  youthful  frolic." 

"It's  my  turn  to  say '  nonsense, ' "  said  Frank.  "You're 
not  as  old  as  I,  and  a  precious  little  older  than  either  Le 
Beau  or  Kent." 


244  THE  LEADER 

"Oh,  I  know,  in  years.  But  they've  spent  their  lives 
doing  nothing  but  amusing  themselves.  It's  toil  and 
care  and  striving  after  power  that  age  a  man.  I  feel 
twice  as  old  as  either  of  them,  and  while  it  seems  right 
enough  for  them,  it  would  seem  foolish  for  me." 

"Oh,  come!"  said  Frank  coaxingly,  "If  you're  really 
all  right  and  you  think  it  wouldn't  tire  you  too  much, 
it's  just  the  thing  you  need.  'The  bow  that's  always 
bent,'  you  know." 

"Perhaps  you're  right,"  answered  John  slowly,  "per- 
haps what  I  need  is  a  thorough  unbending,  but — I  don't 
want  to  go.  I  don't  want  to  take  a  moonlight  ride  with 
Miss  Le  Beau." 

John  blurted  this  out  with  the  air  of  one  making  an 
unwilling  but  predetermined  confession. 

"I  don't  understand,"  said  Frank  wonderingly, 
searching  his  friend's  face  for  some  light  on  this  strange 
whim.  "I  should  have  supposed  nothing  could  delight 
you  more." 

"Nothing  could  be  a  greater  trial,"  responded  John 
briefly. 

Frank  was  non-plussed.  Could  John  have  been 
"jilted"!  And  whereas,  a  week  ago,  Frank  would  have 
said — "Served  him  right" — now  his  soul  seethed  in  sym- 
pathy for  his  friend  and  indignation  toward  Margaret 
for  her  treatment  of  the  great  Dalton.  Also,  he  was 
greatly  embarrassed.  What  was  the  proper  thing  for 
him  to  do  in  such  a  case?  Ought  he,  or  ought  he  not, 
express  to  John  his  sympathy? 

"Did  she — did  Miss  Le  Beau — turn  you  down?"  he 


THE  LEADER  245 

asked  haltingly,  after  an  interval  of  silence. 

John  glanced  at  Frank  and  saw  the  anxious  and  in- 
dignant scowl  on  his  honest  face.  He  laughed  lightly, 
but  with  some  bitterness  that  his  friend's  quick  ear  de- 
tected: 

"No,  but  no  doubt  she  would  if  she  got  the  chance,  and 
I  don't  want  to  give  it  her.  Can't  you  see  what  a  terrible 
temptation  a  moonlight  ride  through  the  woods  with 
her  would  be  to  me  to  make  a  fool  of  myself?" 

"Yes,"  said  Frank  with  a  quick  beat  of  his  pulse;  for 
was  he  not  to  be  subjected  to  the  like  temptation?  And 
if  Julie  Delauney  was  not  so  superb  a  creature  as  Mar- 
garet Le  Beau,  Frank  had  to  confess  to  himself  that  he 
had  begun  to  find  her  irresistible.  Then  he  went  on 
gravely : 

"But  I  think,  John,  you  are  doing  Miss  Le  Beau  a 
great  injustice  if,  as  I  suppose,  you  think  she  would  be 
influenced  in  her  answer  by  your  defeat  in  the  conven- 
tion. She  has  not  impressed  me  as  a  woman  who  would 
be  a  fairweather  friend." 

"Oh  no,  no,"  said  John  quickly.  "I  did  not  mean  to 
make  any  such  accusation.  I  was  only  thinking  of  my 
own  side  of  it.  You  don't  expect  me,  I  suppose,  to  offer 
a  woman  like  that  my  ruined  hopes  and  wrecked  Am- 
bitions." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Frank  slowly,  and  then  he  added 
diffidently,  "I  didn't  know,  John,  that  you  had  got  so 
far  along  in  so  short  a  time.  Couldn't  you  take  it  a  little 
more  slowly  and  give  yourself  a  chance  to  get  over  the 
convention,  and  in  the  meantime  see  all  you  like  of  her 


246  THE  LEADER 

and  enjoy  the  seeing?  Take  the  good  the  gods  provide 
thee.'" 

"I  believe,  Frank,"  said  John,  turning  on  his  elbow 
and  looking  up  to  Seton,  for  in  spite  of  his  asservations 
that  he  was  no  invalid,  a  rest  in  the  hot  afternoon  on  this 
luxurious  couch  had  seemed  very  good  to  him,  "I  be- 
lieve I  can  go  further  in  a  shorter  time  than  any  man 
living.  I  have  known  Miss  Le  Beau  not  quite  a  week, 
and  there  are  no  lengths  my  feeling  for  her  would  not 
carry  me  if  I  would  give  it  rein.  There!  Do  you  think 
me  a  headlong  fool?" 

"No,"  said  Frank,  "I  understand  perfectly.  It's 
your  impetuosity  that  has  always  been  your  power- 
though  for  an  impetuous  man,  you  have  also  wonderful 
self  control.  But  it's  partly  the  unusual  way  in  which 
you've  been  associated  with  her  through  this  week.  The 
exciting  scenes  of  the  convention  have  brought  you 
closer  together  than  a  year  of  ordinary  intercourse.  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  she'd  gone  just  as  far  herself." 

He  said  this  last  with  a  purpose  and  he  glanced  keenly 
at  John  as  he  said  it.  The  shot  told,  and  John  paled  a 
little.  Then  he  answered  quietly; 

"Oh,  I  hope  not,  but  if  she  has,  she'll  get  over  it. 
Time  and  absence  .are  great  healers — and — the  con- 
tinued presence  of  Mr.  Kent  would  help  I  think." 

"John!  You're  not  descending  to  jealousy,  I  hope?" 

"No,  I  really  mean  it;  and  that's  where  a  large  part 
of  the  rub  comes  in." 

"But  he's  such  a  boy — or  worse,  he's  nothing  but  one 
of  your  society  swells,  and  I  do  Miss  Le  Beau  the  honor 


THE  LEADER  247 

of  thinking  she  would  expect  a  little  more  than  that  in 
the  man  she  marries." 

"You're  mistaken.  I  thought  so  myself  at  first;  but 
I've  come  to  see  that  he's  an  honorable,  manly,  large- 
hearted  fellow,  and,  I  fancy,  honestly  in  love  with  his 
neighbor  of  Beauvoir." 

Frank  dismissed  the  subject  with  an  impatient  frown: 

"Well,  I  hope  you'll  change  your  mind  about  the  pos- 
sum hunt.  There's  no  reason  in  the  world  why  we  old 
fellows  shouldn't  be  boys  again  once  in  a  while.  Per- 
haps Miss  Le  Beau  will  change  it  for  you  this  evening 
at  tea." 

Miss  Le  Beau  did  change  it.  John  had  made  a  stout 
stand  for  a  while  against  the  combined  persuasions  of 
the  party,  though  he  would  not  plead  the  one  excuse 
they  would  all  have  accepted — his  health.  But  Mar- 
garet, who  sat  next  him,  found  a  chance  to  say  to  him 
under  a  friendly  confusion  of  talk : 

"I'm  greatly  disappointed,  Mr.  Dalton.  I've  been 
counting  on  you  for  this  ever  since  French  Jean's  mes- 
sage this  morning.  Even  if  you  don't  care  for  possum 
hunts,  I'm  sure  you  would  like  a  ride  through  our  great 
South  Woods  by  moonlight." 

Margaret  looked  up  with  her  sweetest  smile  as  she  said 
it,  deliberately  determined  to  see  what  she  could  accom- 
plish where  others  had  failed.  Through  the  long  after- 
noon at  home  she  had  come  to  a  conclusion  that  the 
change  in  Dalton's  manner,  over  which  she  had  pondered 
much  and  which  had  deeply  wounded  her,  was  due  to 
sensitiveness  over  his  defeat.  She  determined  to  show 


248  THE  LEADER 

him  that  that  carried  no  weight  with  her,  and  she  blushed 
to  think  that  her  manner,  which  was  only  a  reflection  of 
his,  might  have  led  him  to  think  that  it  had.  It  was,  as 
she  said,  a  keen  disappointment  to  her  to  hear  Dalton 
decline  to  go  on  the  hunt,  for  she  had  decided  that  if 
there  should  be  no  other  opportunity  to  prove  to  him 
that  she  was  unchanged  there  would  certainly  be  many 
of  them  in  the  moon-lit  woods.  Her  eyes  and  her  smile, 
therefore,  had  all  the  winning  pleading  she  knew  how  to 
put  into  them  and  which  reminded  John  so  strongly  of 
the  child  Peggy  that  he  could  not  resist  them. 

"Really  and  truly  disappointed?"  he  asked,  smiling 
down  on  her  paternally  as  he  always  did  when  she  re- 
minded him  of  Peggy. 

"Really  and  truly,"  said  Margaret  smiling  back  at  him, 
"Cross  my  heart!" 

"Well  then,  of  course,  I'll  go,"  he  answered  heartily. 
"I  didn't  suppose  an  old  fellow  like  me  would  make  any 
real  difference.  In  fact,  I  rather  thought  you  might 
have  a  better  time  without  me — perhaps  I'd  be  a  bit  of 
a  drag." 

Margaret  smiled  and  shook  her  head: 

"You  couldn't  think  that,"  was  all  she  said,  and  try  as 
he  might,  John  could  not  keep  quite  all  of  his  heart  out 
of  his  eyes.  There  was  enough  of  it  in  his  glance  to  make 
Margaret  turn  away  quickly,  and  John,  to  cover  his  own 
confusion,  called  out  to  Hugh : 

"I've  reconsidered,  Mr.  Kent.  Miss  Le  Beau  has 
proved  to  me  that  I'm  not  as  old  as  I  thought  I  was,  and 
that  at  any  rate  it's  a  very  good  thing  to  be  a  boy  again 


THE  LEADER  249 

just  for  to-morrow  night." 

The  moon  was  an  old  one — though  not  so  old  but  that 
'it  was  still  equal  to  shedding  a  fairly  good  light — and  it 
had  but  lately  risen  as  the  little  party  swept  round  the 
circle,  past  the  barns  and  into  the  corn-field  road. 

John  was  glad  Margaret  was  not  riding  cross-saddle. 
He  had  an  old-fashioned  liking  for  a  graceful  woman  on 
a  side  saddle.  Margaret  in  her  short  trim  skirt,  sitting 
as  if  she  were  a  part  of  old  Nell,  careless  of  whether  she 
happened  to  be  cantering,  racking,  single-footing,  or 
galloping,  holding  her  reins  lightly  and  her  crop  firmly, 
in  the  highest  spirits  racing  ahead  and  calling  back  a 
laughing  challenge  to  any  one  who  could  to  catch  her, 
was  a  delight  to  his  eyes.  He  was  riding  the  only  horse 
that  could  have  caught  Old  Nell,  for  since  he  was  the 
guest  of  honor,  Hugh  had  given  him  his  tall  hunter 
Selim.  But  he  did  not  accept  her  challenge;  it  was 
Hugh,  the  loyal,  riding  a  rather  sorry  scrub,  having 
given  his  second  best  mount  to  Seton,  who  dashed  after 
her  and  caught  up  with  her  as  she  turned  into  the  sunken 
lane  leading  past  the  Kentwick  Club. 

The  overhanging  hedges  threw  the  lane  in  deep  shad- 
ow, but  the  horses  knew  every  step  of  the  way  and  did  not 
slacken  their  pace.  Margaret  and  Hugh  could  not  for- 
get the  last  time  they  had  ridden  that  road  together  and 
neither  had  a  word  to  say.  They  turned  into  the  woods 
at  the  little  path  that  led  to  the  leaf-clogged  brook,  for 
it  was  the  edge  of  the  great  South  Woods  they  had 
skirted  on  the  day  of  their  ride.  At  the  brook  they 


250  THE  LEADER 

were  forced  to  wait,  for  from  there  many  paths  diverged 
into  the  depths  of  the  forest,  and  they  were  not  sure 
which  one  French  Jean  would  take.  It  was  a  haunted 
spot  for  both  of  them,  but  Margaret  was  covering  her 
embarrassment  by  talking  excitedly  and  gaily  to  a  listen- 
er who  for  the  life  of  him  could  not  utter  a  word.  For- 
tunately for  both,  French  Jean  was  not  far  behind  them, 
and  as  he  came  up  Margaret  proposed  to  him  that  they 
should  go  on,  leaving  Hugh  to  show  the  others  which  path 
to  take. 

South  Woods  was  the  largest  bit  of  virgin  forest  left 
in  the  county,  and  so  wide  and  deep  was  it  with  so  many 
paths  crossing  and  recrossing,  it  was  an  easy  place  in 
which  to  lose  one's  way.  It  was  a  forest  of  oaks  and 
walnuts  and  hickories  and  as  free  from  underbrush 
through  most  of  its  extent  as  a  gentleman's  park.  The 
moon  was  high  enough  by  this  time  to  pierce  the  canopy 
of  foliage  above  their  heads  wherever  a  broken  limb  or 
blasted  tree  gave  entrance  to  its  rays,  and  so  diffused  a 
somber  twilight  beneath  the  branches. 

But  the  possum  had  evidently  got  wind  of  their  com- 
ing and  had  determined  to  lead  them  a  long  chase.  They 
rode  for  miles  up  one  woodland  path  and  down  another, 
following  in  the  wake  of  French  Jean's  much  vaunted 
dog  who  tore  wildly  in  one  direction  only  to  double  on 
his  tracks  and  tear  as  wildly  in  the  other.  It  didn't 
make  any  difference,  for,  as  Margaret  said,  the  fun  of  a 
possum  hunt  was  in  the  hunting,  the  treeing  part  she 
didn't  like.  Sometimes  they  all  took  different  trails, 
hallowing  at  intervals  to  keep  track  of  each  other,  and 


THE  LEADER  251 

coming  together  again  at  points  of  rendezvous  as  if  they 
were  executing  the  intricate  figures  of  a  contra-dance. 
Picking  their  way  carefully  along  rocky  and  narrow 
trails,  slowly  climbing  steep  hill-paths  or  galloping  madly 
where  a  clear  space  gave  them  a  chance,  grey  shadowy 
figures  in  the  dim  light  under  the  trees,  they  might  have 
been  a  party  of  ghosts  holding  high  carnival,  except  that 
ghosts  are  reputed  noiseless  and  they  made  the  woods 
ring  with  their  laughter  and  shouting. 

In  all  the  kaleidoscopic  shifting  of  the  shadowy  fig- 
ures, Dalton  never  lost  sight  of  one  whose  peculiar  grace, 
apparent  even  in  its  dim  outlines,  assured  him  it  was 
Margaret's.  Sometimes,  when  the  obscurity  was  too 
great  to  distinguish  even  so  faintly  one  figure  from  anoth- 
er, it  was  by  her  ringing  laugh,  or  sometimes  by  a  high 
and  musical  halloo  that  he  kept  track  of  every  movement 
and  knew  just  where  she  was  and  what  she  was  doing,  no 
matter  by  whose  side  he  might  be  riding. 

Selim  was  far  too  spirited  a  hunter  for  a  possum  hunt, 
though  for  chasing  the  fox  across  country  he  had  no 
equal,  taking  the  highest  fence  or  the  widest  ditch  with 
ease.  Dalton  began  to  find  he  had  his  hands  full  to 
keep  him  down  to  this  quiet  work,  and  so,  when  chance 
offered,  he  let  him  dash  off  from  the  party  and  back 
again  to  give  ebulition  to  some  of  his  high  spirits.  Re- 
turning from  one  of  these  dashes  to  where  he  expected 
to  find  the  party,  he  found  only  one  slim  grey  figure 
awaiting  him,  and  the  pounding  of  his  heart  assured 
him  who  it  was  almost  before  his  eyes  had  taken  in  its 
outlines. 


252  THE  LEADER 

Margaret  called  to  him  as  he  came  up : 

"They  think  they  have  found  the  possum  and  they 
are  all  off  after  him.  I  told  them  I  would  wait  for  you 
and  show  you  the  way." 

But  whether  in  the  obscurity  Margaret  made  a  mistake 
in  the  opening  or  whether  she  willfully  took  the  wrong 
path,  the  farther  they  rode  on  the  fainter  and  more  dis- 
tant became  the  shouts  of  their  friends.  Dalton  at  first 
did  not  notice  this,  for  Margaret  was  exerting  every 
power  to  charm  him  only  too  successfully.  When  it  did 
force  itself  upon  his  attention,  he  drew  rein  at  once. 

"Miss  Le  Beau,"  he  asked,  "Are  you  sure  you  know 
the  way?  I'm  afraid  we're  on  the  wrong  path." 

"It  is  barely  possible,"  said  Margaret,  with  no  pre- 
tense of  anxiety,  "But  if  so,  we  have  only  to  retrace  our 
steps  and  take  the  other  fork." 

Dalton  was  nervously  anxious  not  to  seem  to  either 
Margaret  or  the  others  in  the  party  to  be  seeking  a  tete- 
a-tete  with  her  and  would  have  hurried  her  along  over 
their  return  course.  But  Margaret  was  willful. 

"Why  do  you  hurry?  Do  you  want  to  be  in  at  the 
treeing?  I  would  rather  miss  it — I'm  always  so  sorry 
for  the  poor  possum." 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  curb  Selim  who  was 
as  nervously  anxious  as  his  rider  to  rejoin  the  others, 
and  since  this  little  detour  was  none  of  his  seeking, 
John  swiftly  changed  his  attitude  and  determined  to 
enjoy  it  to  the  full.  Margaret  felt  the  subtle  change  and 
it  gave  her  courage  to  start  a  less  impersonal  theme — for 
Dalton  had  made  no  reference  to  the  convention  and 


THE  LEADER  253 

Margaret  feared  he  might  think  her  lacking  a  little  in 
delicacy  if  she  were  the  first  to  try  to  take  up  the  threads 
where  they  had  been  broken  off.  Yet  she  was  even 
more  afraid  that  he  might  be  suffering  from  her  own 
silence  and  misunderstanding  it,  since  he  might  consider 
that  he  had  a  right  to  expect  some  expression  of  sympa- 
thy for  him  in  his  defeat.  At  least  she  was  not  going  to 
fall  short  in  her  part. 

"I  have  not  had  a  chance,  Mr.  Dalton,  to  tell  you," 
she  began  gently,  "how  keenly  I  felt  your  losing  the 
nomination — do  you  mind  my  telling  you  that  I  am  still 
very  unreconciled?" 

Dalton  felt  himself  wince  as  she  touched  his  hurt,  but 
he  perceived  too  the  spirit  in  which  it  was  done,  and  the 
courage  required  for  the  doing,  and  was  moved  by  it. 
He  was  not  going  to  play  the  coward  where  she  was  so 
brave. 

"I  ought  not  to  mind — I  ought  to  be  very  grateful," 
he  answered,  "And  I  am  grateful,  Miss  Le  Beau,  but  it 
is  still,  for  some  reasons  that  you  cannot  understand,  a 
very  sore  spot." 

"Oh,  I  am  sorry  if  I  have  hurt  you!"  Margaret  spoke 
quickly,  with  swift  remorse  in  her  tones. 

"You  have  not  hurt  me  half  as  much  as  you  have 
helped  me."  And  Margaret  was  sure  from  his  tones  that 
if  it  had  been  light  enough  she  would  have  seen  that 
smile  she  liked  the  best, — the  whimsical  one.  "It  is  like 
the  surgeon's  knife — it  hurts,  but  it  heals." 

"Then  you  will  let  me  say  one  thing  more?"  asked 
Margaret,  still  more  gently. 


254  THE  LEADER 


i 


"You  may  say  anything  in  the  world,  Miss  Le  Beau, 
that  you  find  in  your  heart  to  say,"  answered  John  fer- 
vently. 

"I  wanted  to  tell  you— how  I—  "  Margaret  halted  a 
little — it  was  harder  than  she  had  expected,  to  say 
words  of  praise  to  this  man.  He  might  think  it  fulsome, 
and  that  would  be  execrable;  or  he  might  think  she  was 
pitying  him,  and  that  would  be  unendurable.  She  be- 
gan again: 

"I  wanted  to  tell  you  how  proud  of  you  we  all  were 
when  you  came  back  and  made  that  speech  about  the 
telegram.  I  had  heard  them  say  you  had  another  chance 
for  the  nomination,  and  I  was  so  afraid  you  would  miss 
it  I  was  ready  to  go  after  you  myself  and  bring  you  back. 
But  when  you  came,  and  then  when  you  threw  it  away 
in  the  grand  way  that  you  did,  I  was  prouder  of  you  than 
if  you  had  won  it.  It  was  a  thousand  times  better  than 
being  President!  and  I  gloried  in  it!" 

Margaret  had  forgotten  the  "we"  she  had  started  out 
with,  and  Dalton  had  never  heard  sweeter  words.  Es- 
pecially did  the  "I"  into  which  she  had  so  quickly 
dropped  thrill  him,  but  he  did  not  know  how  to  answer 
her  without  saying  too  much.  There  were  burning 
words  at  his  very  lips  struggling  for  utterance,  and  the 
restraint  he  had  to  put  upon  himself  made  the  words  he 
used  seem  very  cold  and  tame  indeed. 

"You  and  your  friends  have  been  very  kind  to  me, 
Miss  Le  Beau,"  he  began,  "and  I  hope  you  will  believe 
that  I  greatly  appreciate  it."  Then  he  was  silent  a  mo- 
ment, making  a  rapid  mental  decision  and  trying  to  find 


THE  LEADER  255 

the  right  words  in  which  to  express  it.  The  silver- 
tongued  orator,  who  did  not  mind  talking  to  thousands, 
and  knew  exactly  on  the  platform  how  to  say  the  right 
thing  in  the  right  way,  found  himself  awkward  and  halt- 
ing when  his  only  audience  was  a  young  and  beautiful 
woman. 

"Miss  Le  Beau,  I've  been  wanting  to  say  to  you,  and 
this  seems  to  be  my  opportunity,  that  losing  the  nomi- 
nation has  tied  my  tongue.  There  were  many  things  I 
had  counted  on  saying  to  you  if  I  had  won  it — some  of 
them  you  may  feel  you  had  a  right  to  expect  me  to  say — 
but  that  has  changed  everything.  I  was  mad  to  have 
counted  on  it  so  securely  and,  counting  on  it,  to  have 
gone  as  far  as  I  did.  I  am  glad  to  have  this  chance  to 
make  my  very  humble  apologies  to  you,  and  having 
made  them  let  us,  please,  dismiss  the  convention  and  its 
consequences  forever." 

Now  was  Margaret  in  the  greatest  straits  she  had  yet 
known.  She  had  spent  her  life — or  such  part  of  it  as 
belonged  to  young  womanhood — in  skillfully  avoiding 
proposals  of  marriage.  It  was  the  penalty  she  paid  for 
being  beautiful  and  charming,  and  perhaps  also  for  being 
rich,  having  men  always  imagining  themselves  ardently 
in  love  with  her  and  eager  to  declare  their  love;  and  she 
rather  prided  herself  on  the  skill  and  adroitness  with 
which  she  had  prevented  most  of  such  declarations. 
Hugh,  of  course,  was  an  exception.  She  had  grown  to 
expect  his  periodical  proposals  and  had  not  minded  them 
until  this  last  one,  when  she  had  suddenly  become  alive 
to  their  seriousness.  Now  she  found  herself  playing  the 


256  THE  LEADER 

role  she  had  heretofore  most  despised — the  role  of  a 
woman  "drawing  on"  a  man.  Moreover,  she  was  feeling 
no  shame  or  self-scorn — she  was  glorying  in  it.  And  all 
because  she  perfectly  understood  that  this  man  had  been 
so  deeply  wounded  in  his  self  esteem  by  his  defeat,  as  to 
feel  himself  no  longer  in  a  position  to  dare  to  say  what 
his  eyes  had  once  said  for  him.  She  would  restore  him 
to  his  self  esteem.  She  would  show  him  that  if  all  the 
world  had  forsaken  him  she  had  not,  and  she  was  as 
ready  now  to  listen  to  his  words  as  she  had  been  before 
to  receive  and  return  his  glance. 

Margaret's  voice  was  set  to  a  low  musical  pitch  with 
contralto  tones  vibrating  through  it,  and  with  that  ador- 
able little  break  in  the  register  that  sometimes  goes  with 
a  contralto  voice.  A  woman  with  such  a  voice  has  an 
instrument  to  play  upon  that  sets  a  man's  heartstrings 
irresistibly  vibrating  in  response.  It  is  as  compelling 
as  the  song  of  the  thrush  among  birds.  Yet  John,  every 
pulse  leaping,  every  fibre  of  his  soul  thrilling  in  response 
to  those  low  musical  tones,  steeled  his  heart  against 
them. 

"I  do  not  know  what  you  think  I  have  a  right  to  ex- 
pect you  to  say,  Mr.  Dalton,  but  I  do  not  admit  that  your 
defeat  has  changed  in  any  way  your  right  to  say  what 
you  will,  and  I  will  listen  to  it  as  freely  and  as  gladly  as 
if  you  had  won  the  nomination."  And  then  in  a  still 
lower  voice,  with  still  richer  vibrations : 

"There  is  only  one  thing  that  could  matter;  if  you  had 
changed— if  you  had  lost  the  desire  to  say  it." 

Could  there  be  bolder  or  balder  wooing!    Margaret 


THE  LEADER  257 

did  not  lose  her  courage  nor  weaken  in  her  determination, 
but  neither  could  it  be  possible  to  her  to  utter  such  words 
without  feeling  the  blood  rushing  in  waves  to  her  face, 
while  more  than  once  her  voice  faltered  and  broke. 

John  could  not  see  the  waves  of  color  but  he  could  hear 
the  faltering  tones.  His  very  soul  was  torn  to  atoms, 
such  a  struggle  was  going  on  within  him  between  his 
desires  and  his  sense  of  right,  yes — and  his  pride.  In  a 
blind  impulse  of  flight  from  temptation  he  put  the  spurs 
into  Selim  and  dashed  ahead  for  a  brief  space,  leaving 
Margaret  to  follow  slowly,  wondering  whether,  after  all, 
she  had  not  understood  him  and  she  should  die  of  morti- 
fication at  the  thought,  or  whether,  as  she  secretly  be- 
lieved and  glowed  with  triumph  in  the  belief,  his  flight 
was  but  a  tribute  to  the  overmastering  power  of  his 
emotions. 

John's  flight  was  brief.  He  brought  Selim  to  a  stand- 
still at  the  fork  of  the  roads  where  they  had  taken  the 
wrong  one,  and  waited  for  Margaret  to  come  up.  There 
was  a  tiny  clearing  at  the  fork  and  the  moon's  rays,  quite 
strong  now,  made  a  circle  of  light  in  which  John  stood. 
Margaret  could  see  his  face  sternly  set  and  his  eyes  glow- 
ing with  repressed  fires. 

"Miss  Le  Beau,"  he  almost  groaned  as  she  came  slowly 
up  to  him,  "You  make  it  very  hard  for  me!  You  do  not 
know  what  you  are  saying!" 

Margaret  had  brought  Nell  to  a  standstill  in  the  circle 
of  light.  She  looked  up  at  him  shyly,  but  with  a  sweet 
audacity  no  mortal  could  withstand. 

"Yes,  I  know  what  I  am  saying,"  she  murmured. 


258  THE  LEADER 

John  was  mortal — he  flung  his  scruples  to  the  winds 
and  with  a  swift  gesture  of  abandonment  and  a  low  in- 
articulate cry,  he  bent  towards  Margaret  and  reached 
out  to  grasp  her  hands.  But  Margaret  slightly  shook 
her  head  and  touched  Nell  with  her  crop,  so  that  she 
started  forward  and  carried  her  beyond  the  circle  of 
light  into  the  other  fork  of  the  road.  She  had  been  facing 
it  and  now  had  seen  the  advanced  member  of  the  party 
—whose  voices,  gradually  growing  nearer,  they  had  been 
for  some  moments  hearing  without  heeding — come 
round  a  bend  in  the  path,  bringing  herself  and  John, 
standing  in  the  circle  of  light,  into  his  full  view.  And 
the  advance  member  of  the  party  was  Peyton ! 

The  others  were  close  behind  him  and  they  came  up 
eagerly  announcing  the  capture  of  the  possum  and  in  the 
same  breath  voicing  their  regrets  at  Margaret's  and  Dai- 
ton's  absence  from  the  final  victory,  with  wondering  in- 
quiries as  to  what  had  become  of  them. 

Margaret  took  it  upon  herself  to  answer,  for  Dalton 
could  not  so  quickly  recover  from  the  storm  and  stress 
through  which  he  had  just  been  passing.  She  spoke 
carelessly : 

"I  had  to  wait  for  Mr.  Dalton,  you  know,  and  then  we 
took  the  wrong  road  and  had  just  come  this  far  on  our 
return.  I'm  sorry  Mr.  Dalton  missed  being  in  at  the 
brush,  though  I'm  rather  glad  on  my  own  account.  But 
who  got  him?" 

"Oh,  Hugh,  of  course,"  answered  Julie.  "Don't  you 
remember,  Margaret,  he  was  always  the  one  to  'shin'  up 
the  tree?" 


THE  LEADER  259 

"Yes,"  added  Seton,  "and  he  did  it  as  easily  and  bagged 
the  possum  as  neatly  as  if  he  had  been  doing  it  every  day 
for  the  last  ten  years." 

"It's  a  fine  one,  Margaret,"  said  Hugh,  riding  up  close 
to  Nell  with  his  bag,  "and  he  belongs  to  you.  What 
shall  I  do  with  him?" 

"Oh,  give  him  to  French  Jean,  of  course,"  said  Mar- 
garet laughing,  "And  Caroline  can  have  possum  gravy 
and  sweet  potatoes  for  supper.  But  tell  him  to  sava  the 
tail  for  me — I'll  keep  it  for  the  sake  of  auld  lang  syne 
when  I  used  to  be  the  proud  possessor  of  a  string  of  pos- 
sum tails  every  year." 

Through  all  the  confusion  of  talk,  Peyton  had  not 
uttered  a  word;  he  had  only  darted  quick  and  angry  and 
suspicious  glances  at  Dalton,  who,  perceiving  them  and 
knowing  that  Peyton  must  have  seen  his  swift  move- 
ment towards  Margaret,  and  had  probably  formed  from 
it  a  conjecture  that  did  not  please  him,  yet  received  the 
glances  imperturbably. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

STORM  AT  BEAUVOIR. 

They  had  ridden  farther  in  the  wake  of  the  erratic  pos- 
sum than  they  had  realized,  and  by  the  time  they  had 
emerged  from  the  shadows  of  South  Woods  on  to  the 
country  road,  day  was  beginning  to  break.  The  gibbous 
moon  was  paling  toward  the  west,  there  were  faint  rosy 
streaks  in  the  east,  and  higher  up  a  soft  glow  of  amethyst 
through  which  the  morning  star  was  shining,  serenely 
golden. 

Their  ranks  were  now  in  confusion,  there  was  no  es- 
pecial "pairing  off,"  and  so  no  reason  why  John  should 
not  ride  up  beside  Margaret,  on  whose  other  side  was 
Hugh,  and  he  considered  that  there  were  two  reasons 
why  he  should  do  so.  The  first  was  not  a  very  worthy 
one,  perhaps.  Peyton's  suspicious  glances  had  irritated 
him,  and  he  had  a  weak  desire  to  show  him  that  he  did 
not  fear  them  by  braving  his  further  displeasure  in  openly 
seeking  Margaret.  His  second  reason  was  the  stronger 
one :  the  pale  rose  and  violet  glow  of  the  dawn,  the  calm 
radiance  of  the  morning  star  brought  vividly  back  to 
him  that  hour  in  the  committee  room.  Margaret  was 
talking  and  laughing  with  Hugh;  he  was  afraid  the  beauty 
of  the  dawn  was  being  lost  upon  her.  It  had  come  to  be 
a  sacred  hour  to  him,  and  he  wanted  her  to  note  its 
beauties,  and  especially  to  note  the  morning  star,  which 
since  that  hour  would  always  be  to  him  a  symbol  of  her. 

"Miss  Le  Beau,"  he  said,  as  he  rode  up  beside  her, 


THE  LEADER  261 

"have  you  ever  seen  the  morning  star  before?" 

"Not  often/'  answered  Margaret,  turning  to  him  and 
bestowing  upon  him  a  smile  of  pleased  appreciation  of 
his  boldness,  "until  this  morning  but  once,  I  believe,  in 
many  years;  and  that  once  was  only  a  few  days  ago." 

"What  day,  please?"  asked  John  quickly,  startled  into 
abruptness  by  a  sudden  suspicion  that  filled  him  with 
keen  delight. 

"What  day?"  repeated  Margaret,  wondering  a  little 
at  his  signs  of  excitement,  "Oh,  it  was  the  morning  of 
that  all-night  session  of  the  Resolutions  Committee.  I 
remember  thinking,  as  I  stood  at  the  window  looking  out 
at  the  star,  that  you  were  probably  down  in  the  hot  city 
hard  at  work." 

Margaret  wanted  him  to  know  that  she  had  thought 
of  him,  and  Dalton  showed  his  appreciation  by  a  flashing 
smile  of  gratitude.  But  some  other  thought  was  stirring 
him  deeply. 

"Strange!"  he  murmured,  and  then  he  questioned 
again : 

"How  did  you  happen  to  be  awake  at  that  hour?" 

"That  was  really  very  odd,"  she  answered.  "I  was 
awakened  suddenly  by  someone  calling  my  name.  I 
was  sure  I  heard  it  and  I  was  wide  awake  in  a  moment. 
But  I  know  now  it  was  only  a  dream,  probably  the  rays 
from  the  star  shining  in  my  face  woke  me." 

"Yes,"  said  John,  gazing  curiously  at  her  and  shaking 
his  head  gently,  "it  was  only  a  dream." 

Hugh  looked  at  him.  Was  Dalton  a  little  queer,  he 
wondered.  Certainly  bis  manner  was  peculiar  this 


262  THE  LEADER 

morning.  John  saw  the  look  and  recovered  himself 
with  an  effort.  He  had  been  for  the  moment  oblivious 
of  Hugh's  presence,  so  startled  was  he  at  the  thought  that 
when,  in  that  early  dawn,  his  soul  had  called  Margaret's 
name,  her  soul  had  heard  and  responded.  He  longed 
for  an  opportunity  of  telling  her  about  it,  and  swiftly 
resolved  that  sometime  through  the  coming  day  he 
would  make  it.  Now  he  dropped  back  a  little,  and  let 
Margaret  and  Hugh  go  on  ahead  of  him. 

It  was  an  ill-timed  move,  and  fraught  with  disastrous 
consequences.  Peyton,  who  had,  as  John  was  sure,  seen 
his  gesture  of  abandon  towards  Margaret,  had  kept 
strict  watch  on  him  ever  since.  He  had  had  his  moments 
of  kindly  feeling  towards  Dalton,  but  they  were  not  when 
he  was  showing  any  special  interest  in  Margaret  and 
Margaret  apparently  reciprocating  the  interest.  He  had 
the  born  aristocrat's  irreconcilable  repugnance  to  any 
close  personal  relations  with  a  man  from  the  people;  and 
particularly  now,  when  the  affair  on  which  he  had  set  his 
heart  was  progressing  so  favorably,  as  he  thought,  did  he 
resent  anything  that  might  distract  Margaret's  thoughts 
from  Hugh. 

It  occurred  to  him  that  it  might  be  well  to  give  Dalton 
to  understand  the  relation  between  these  two — for  Pey- 
ton did  not  for  a  moment  doubt  the  engagement  It 
might  be  done  delicately  and  in  such  a  manner  as  would 
be  no  special  breach  of  confidence  towards  Margaret. 
There  had  been  nothing  to  repay  his  watch  while  they 
were  riding  through  the  defiles  of  the  woods — since  for 
most  of  the  way  they  must  go  single  file  and  the  only 


THE  LEADER  263 

conversation  permissible  must  be  carried  on  in  a  half 
shout.  But  he  had  seen  Dalton  riding  boldly  up  beside 
Margaret  as  soon  as  they  had  struck  the  county  road  and 
the  signs  of  unusual  excitement  on  Dalton's  part  as  the 
result  of  the  brief  conversation  between  him  and  Mar- 
garet had  not  escaped  him.  He  had  put  his  horse  to  the 
gallop,  intending  to  ride  up  by  Dalton  and  engage  him 
in  a  conversation  that  should  draw  him  away  from  Mar- 
garet's side,  when  Dalton  fell  back  voluntarily  and  gave 
him  his  opportunity. 

"So  you  missed  being  in  at  the  death,  Mr.  Dalton," 
said  Peyton  courteously,  as  he  drew  up  by  his  side.  "It's 
a  little  like  the  play  of  Hamlet  without  the  prince,  isn't 
it?" 

"I  suppose  so/'  replied  John  as  courteously.  "I'm 
sorry  to  have  missed  it,  but  we  took  the  wrong  fork." 

"I'm  sorry  too,"  Peyton  responded  truthfully.  "The 
treeing  is  always  a  great  excitement.  It's  something 
too,  to  see  Mr.  Kent  go  up  a  tree  after  a  possum.  I  don't 
know  how  he  keeps  so  limber.  He's  only  a  little  younger 
than  I,  and  I  should  make  sorry  work  of  it  with  my  stiff 
joints." 

Then,  determined  to  get  in  his  hot  shot  before  any  one 
should  come  up  and  interrupt  them,  he  went  on  glibly : 

"I  was  especially  sorry  to  have  Margaret  miss  it  on 
Hugh's  account.  I  suppose  a  man  always  likes  to  shine 
in  the  eyes  of  his  fiance'e  and  it  must  have  taken  the  zest 
out  of  it  for  Hugh." 

John  was  too  stunned  for  a  moment  at  that  word 
"fiance'e"  to  more  than  murmur: 


264  THE  LEADER 

"Oh — I  did  not  know — yes,  that  was  too  bad." 

Peyton  added,  as  if  by  afterthought: 

"I  suppose  I  am  committing  no  breach  of  confidence. 
There  has  been  no  announcement  yet — the  affair  has 
only  taken  definite  shape  within  the  last  few  days.  I 
was  sure  you  would  be  interested,  and  at  best  it  cannot 
be  long  until  the  world  knows,  though  I  suppose  it  is 
hardly  necessary  to  ask  you  not  to  speak  of  it  until  the 
announcement.  I  am  sure  my  sister  would  like  to 
have  you  know,  since  you  have  shown  some  interest  in 
both  her  and  Mr.  Kent  and  it  is  not  a  matter  she  could 
very  well  mention  herself." 

"No,  certainly  not — I  understand.  Mr.  Kent  is  to 
be  greatly  congratulated,"  said  John  in  a  voice  that 
rather  surprised  Peyton  by  its  firmness. 

During  Peyton's  last  speech  John  had  decided  that  he 
would  still  make  that  opportunity  he  had  so  longed  for 
a  few  moments  before.  He  would  put  Margaret  to  the 
proof,  and  if  she  was  engaged  to  Hugh  she  would  have 
to  tell  him  so.  He  had  been  too  dazed  to  think  for  the 
first  few  wretched  moments,  and  it  had  seemed  to  him 
not  incompatible  with  what  he  knew  of  such  things  that 
into  an  engagement  of  long  standing  should  come  a  new 
and  more  vivid  interest,  that  for  the  time  eclipsed  the 
old  one.  But  when  Peyton  had  added  that  the  engagement 
was  a  new  one,  made,  probably,  since  his  acquaintance 
with  Margaret  had  begun,  he  said  swiftly  to  himself— 
"He  lies!  he  lies!"  And  he  did  Peyton  the  injustice  of 
believing  that  he  had  fabricated  the  story  out  of  whole 
cloth  to  unscrupulously  accomplish  purposes  of  his  own. 


THE  LEADER  265 

In  a  flash,  every  incident  of  his  acquaintance  with 
Margaret  was  vividly  before  him,  and  it  was  impossible 
to  reconcile  the  events  of  that  long  night  session,  the 
unmistakable  tokens  she  had  given  of  a  deep  interest  in 
him;  and  still  more  impossible  to  reconcile  the  sweet 
daring  of  her  wooing  of  him  in  the  woods  a  short  hour 
before,  with  any  idea  of  a  newly  engaged  woman.  Either 
Peyton  was  lying,  or  Margaret  was  an  unimaginably 
black-hearted  coquette.  Of  these  two  alternatives,  it 
was  possible  for  him  only  to  take  the  first,  and  hence  the 
cheerfulness  of  his  reply  which  astonished  Peyton. 

Yet,  when,  a  little  after  two  o'clock  of  the  same  after- 
noon he  found  himself  crossing  the  Kentwick  meadows 
by  a  little  footpath  which  Hugh  had  pointed  out  to  him 
as  the  short  cut  to  Beauvoir,  he  was  not  so  supremely  con- 
fident as  he  had  been  when  he  made  that  answer  to  Pey- 
ton. A  black  suspicion  cannot  be  introduced  into  the 
heart  without  leaving  its  trail,  and  often  and  firmly  as 
it  may  be  downed,  it  will,  at  unguarded  moments,  lift 
its  baleful  head.  What  did  John  know  of  women? 
Had  he  not  often  read  of  just  such  wiles,  and  was  not 
reading  the  extent  of  his  knowledge  of  them?  More, 
what  did  he  know  of  Margaret?  Was  an  acquaintance  of 
a  week  long  enough  to  warrant  him  in  being  willing  to 
stake  his  life  on  her  truth?  But  at  that  question  the 
black  suspicion  took  ignominious  flight,  for  John's  head 
lifted,  and  his  eyes  flashed,  and  his  whole  soul  answered 
"Yes!" 

The  day  had  been  one  of  intense  heat  and  sultriness. 


266  THE  LEADER 

All  the  morning  the  sun  had  been  obscured  by  indistinct 
clouds  of  vapor  through  which  could  be  dimly  seen  the 
outlines  of  towering  thunder-heads.  But  as  John 
glanced  up  at  the  sky  now  he  saw  that  the  steaming, 
seething  mists  of  the  morning  had  gathered  themselves 
up  into  definite  form,  and  from  the  southwest  was  rapidly 
advancing  a  black  storm-cloud — its  torn  and  ragged 
edges  showing  the  violence  of  the  wind  it  held  within  its 
bosom. 

John  knew  well  the  signs  of  these  storms  of  semi- 
tropical  violence  that  in  this  section  of  country  often 
broke  with  such  devastating  fury,  and  he  knew  this 
threatened  to  be  one  of  the  worst.  He  quickened  his 
steps,  but  the  storm  was  swifter  than  he.  A  black  pall 
had  overspread  the  sky  now,  only  at  its  western  edge 
lifting  a  little  to  let  a  sickly,  greenish  light  through,  more 
terrifying  than  darkness.  The  clouds  had  taken  on  a 
whirling  motion  and  began  to  form  the  dreaded  funnel. 
There  was  no  disgrace  in  flight  from  such  a  storm.  John 
broke  into  a  run,  dashed  into  the  red  gravel  drive,  ran 
swiftly  across  the  lawn,  sprang  up  the  verandah  steps 
at  a  bound  and  waiting  for  no  formalities  of  bell-ringing, 
flung  open  the  door  and  closed  it  behind  him  just  as  the 
fury  of  the  storm  broke. 

He  turned  from  securely  fastening  the  door  to  see 
Margaret  coming  down  the  steps  looking  like  some 
swiftly  gliding  wraith,  so  colorless  was  she  in  this  dim 
light,  and  her  eyes  wide  with  terror.  She  ran  to  him 
with  hands  outstretched,  and  with  a  great  cry  of  mingled 
relief  and  fear: 


THE  LEADER  267 

"Oh,  Mr.  Dalton!  I  am  so  glad!  I  am  all  alone  in 
the  house  and  I  am  so  afraid!" 

He  took  her  hands  and  held  them  firmly  hoping  to  re- 
assure her  by  the  strength  of  his  touch,  but  his  practical 
mind  took  in  at  once  the  exigencies  of  the  emergency. 
An  open  window  might  mean  the  house  torn  to  splinters, 
while  a  firmly  closed  front  might  be  able  to  withstand 
the  onslaughts  of  the  wind,  which  was  now  roaring 
around  them,  striking  against  the  house  with  the  effect 
of  the  swift  and  repeated  strokes  of  a  great  battering 
ram. 

"All  alone!  he  shouted  for  only  so  could  he  make 
himself  heard.  "Are  the  windows  all  down?  And 
where  is  everybody?" 

Margaret  shouted  back 

"I  had  just  been  all  over  the  house  and  closed  them  as 
you  came.  The  servants  are  in  their  cabins,  I  suppose. 
Tia  Elisa  is  spending  the  day  at  Elmhurst,  and  I  don't 
know  where  Peyton  is." 

Her  voice  broke  on  the  last  words  in  a  half  sob,  for  her 
anxiety  for  Peyton,  out  somewhere  in  the  storm  she 
feared,  had  contributed  most  to  her  terror. 

John  only  held  her  hands  a  little  the  more  firmly,  and 
they  stood  looking  out  at  the  storm  without  trying  to 
talk.  The  words  John  longed  to  say,  with  a  desire  that 
was  almost  uncontrollable,  were  not  words  to  be  shouted 
aloud  at  such  a  moment.  Margaret,  clinging  to  his  hands 
with  an  ineffable  sense  of  comfort  and  security  in  their 
strong  grasp,  glanced  up  at  him  once  or  twice  and  saw 
his  face  set  sternly  in  the  effort  at  self  restraint,  though 


268  THE  LEADER 

always  as  he  felt  her  glance,  he  looked  down  at  her  with 
the  smile  he  would  have  bestowed  on  the  little  Peggy  of 
old,  and  which  had  twice  before  stirred  vague  memories 
for  her. 

She  had  need  of  the  reassurance  of  his  smile  and  of  the 
clasp  of  his  hand,  for  the  storm,  momentarily  growing 
in  violence,  was  now  playing  mad  havoc  with  the  beloved 
Beauvoir  trees.  They  had  been  tossing  their  branches 
and  beating  the  ground  under  the  lash  of  the  wind,  but 
now  there  was  a  wilder  burst  of  fury;  the  tops  of  vener- 
able oaks  and  lindens  snapped  with  the  report  of  cannon 
and  great  branches  were  wrenched  off  with  a  fearful 
sound  of  Bearing  and  grinding.  To  increase  the  horror 
of  the  storm,  the  rain  began  to  fall  in  driving  sheets,  and 
to  the  crash  of  falling  trees  and  the  roar  of  the  wind  were 
added  the  continuous  and  blinding  flashes  of  lightning 
and  the  deafening  reports  and  roll  of  thunder,  peal  upon 
peal,  just  above  their  heads. 

John's  soul  loved  the  wild  roar  of  the  wind  and  the 
rain  and  except  for  Margaret's  terror  and  that  he  knew 
there  was  a  real  danger  that  the  house  might  not  with- 
stand the  repeated  shocks  of  the  wind,  he  would  have 
revelled  in  the  mighty  battle  of  the  gods.  There  came 
a  moment  when  in  one  blinding  flash  and  deafening  roar, 
the  whole  universe  seemed  to  be  crashing  down  upon 
their  heads,  and  even  Dalton  thought  the  house  was  go- 
ing, it  so  trembled  and  rocked  beneath  them.  Margaret, 
while  with  one  hand  she  but  held  tighter  to  John,  with 
her  other  covered  her  eyes  to  shut  out  the  blinding  glare 
and  the  awful  havoc  the  onslaught  of  the  wind  was  mak- 


THE  LEADER  .    269 

ing  among  the  trees.  It  was  the  crest  of  the  storm,  and 
its  violence  probably  only  lasted  a  few  seconds,  though  to 
Margaret,  shivering  with  terror,  it  seemed  a  long  time 
before  she  heard  John's  cheery  tones :  "I  think  the  worst 
is  over,  Miss  Le  Beau."  And  certainly  the  next  wave 
of  wind  that  dashed  against  the  house  was  not  so  violent 
and  in  a  few  moments  the  crash  of  falling  limbs  had 
ceased,  the  flashes  of  lightning  were  less  blinding,  the 
thunder  began  to  be  only  a  distant  and  majestic  roll  and 
the  rain  was  no  longer  driving  in  solid  walls,  blotting 
out  the  world. 

John  drew  Margaret  to  the  window  to  watch  the  re- 
treating banners  of  the  storm:  clouds  rent  into  long 
streamers  scudding  across  the  sky,  and  through  the  rifts 
the  sun  at  intervals  breaking  forth.  The  lawn  was  a 
scene  of  devastation,  piled  high  with  fallen  trees  and 
branches,  but  even  here  there  was  something  to  cheer 
Margaret.  Not  so  many  of  the  trees  were  gone  as  she 
had  feared;  most  of  the  stateliest  were  still  left,  marred 
of  their  perfect  beauty,  but  with  wounds  that  another 
summer's  releafing  would  cover,  and  the  younger  ones 
had  saved  themselves  by  bending  to  the  storm  and 
would  in  time  take  the  place  of  the  grand  old  monarchs 
laid  low. 

There  was  no  longer  any  necessity  for  holding  Mar- 
garet's hand — the  danger  and  the  terror  were  over — and 
yet  Margaret  did  not  withdraw  it,  and  certainly  John 
could  not,  without  discourtesy  he  thought,  voluntarily 
relinquish  it.  There  could  be  no  better  moment  to 
carry  out  his  determination  formed  in  the  early  dawn— 


270  THE  LEADER 

which  Peyton  had  for  a  moment  weakened  but  which 
he  had  quickly  retaken — and  he  drew  himself  together 
to  make  the  plunge. 

He  was  going  to  tell  Margaret  first  what  he  had  once 
said  would  depend  upon  his  nomination  whether  he  ever 
told  her.  He  was  going  to  tell  her,  that  meeting  her  at 
Mrs.  Paxton's  tea  had  given  him  so  much  pleasure  because 
he  remembered  so  well  the  little  Peggy  and  her  valorous 
defence  of  him.  After  that  he  was  going  to  tell  her  about 
that  hour  in  the  early  dawn  when  he  had  first  fully  recog- 
nized his  love  for  her,  and  tell  her  with  what  awe  he  had 
learned  that  she  had  heard  in  sleep  the  longing  cry  of 
his  soul  for  her.  He  was  going  to  make  her  listen  to  him 
in  silence.  She  should  hear  it  all  without  a  chance  to 
give  him  one  word  of  encouragement  or  to  stop  him  if  she 
desired;  for  at  the  last  he  was  going  to  say  to  her:  "This 
is  the  end;  my  brief  dream  is  over.  Your  brother  has 
told  me  of  your  engagement  to  Mr.  Kent.  I  knew  it  was 
but  madness — what  have  I  to  do  with  love — but  I  shall 
go  away  and  some  day  I  will  be  sane  again!"  And  if 
there  was  in  his  heart  a  lurking  hope  that  she  would  re- 
pudiate the  engagement  and  that  she  would  not  let  it 
be  the  end,  he  would  not  recognize  it. 

Making  desperate  summons  of  all  his  courage  and  un- 
consciously taking  a  firmer  grasp  of  Margaret's  hand 
while  he  looked  down  on  her  with  unsmiling  eyes,  he 
made  his  bold  beginning. 

"Miss  Le  Beau,  I  have  changed  my  mind — I  am  going 
to  tell  you  the  second  way  in  which  you  gave  me  pleasure 
at  Mrs.  Paxton's  tea." 


THE  LEADER  271 

Margaret  would  have  been  a  strange  woman  if  she  had 
not  recognized  the  electric  disturbance  with  which  the 
mental  atmosphere  was  charged,  even  without  that 
quick  pressure  of  her  hand.  So  swiftly  had  the  tornado 
passed  that  already  there  were  only  low  mutterings  of 
distant  thunder  and  the  sun  was  brightly  shining  on  the 
ruins  left  in  its  path.  But  the  storm  center  had  only 
shifted,  Margaret  knew,  to  Dalton's  soul  and  hers,  and 
deliberately  as  she  had  tried  to  bring  this  moment,  she 
could  not  keep  her  hand  from  trembling  in  his,  nor  her 
face  from  paling,  as  she  looked  up  at  him  and  murmured 
scarcely  above  her  breath: 

"I  am  so  glad." 

John,  looking  down  into  her  eyes  and  reading  there 
what  lifted  his  soul  to  the  seventh  heaven,  was  in  a  mo- 
ment dashed. pitilessly  to  the  earth  again.  There  was  a 
quick  step  on  the  verandah,  a  figure  flashed  by  the 
window,  not  so  swiftly  but  that  it  half  stopped  and  took 
in  the  picture  framed  there,  and  then  a  furious  rattling 
of  the  door  knob. 

John,  remembering  that  he  had  locked  the  door  for 
security  against  the  storm,  flushed  as  he  recognized  how 
it  would  look  to  Peyton  to  find  the  door  that  always  stood 
open,  barred  against  him.  He  dropped  Margaret's 
hand  and  hastened  to  draw  back  the  bolt  and  open  the 
door,  standing  courteously  aside  to  give  Peyton  entrance, 
with  heightened  color  but  with  lifted  head  and  shoulders 
squared,  as  a  brave  man  should  to  meet  the  inevitable 
storm. 

Peyton  was  in  a  towering  passion  and  there  was  no 


272  THE  LEADER 

mistaking  the  signs  of  it.  Margaret  had  run  towards 
him  with  a  delighted  cry,  for  her  anxiety  about  him  had 
been  great  and  her  sudden  relief  at  seeing  him  safe,  unhurt 
by  the  storm,  was  as  great  and  swallowed  up  for  the  mo- 
ment, all  thought  of  the  inoppor  tuneness  of  his  appearance. 
But  Peyton  flung  her  from  him  so  roughly  that  she  stag- 
gered and  might  have  fallen  but  for  John's  swiftly  out- 
stretched hand.  She.  was  white  to  the  lips,  and  in  her 
eyes  was  the  look  of  a  child  in  terror.  Never  in  his  life 
had  Peyton  been  rough  with  her.  His  love  for  her  had 
been  near  to  adoration  and  as  tender  in  its  expression  as 
the  love  of  a  mother.  That  he  should,  for  no  reason 
that  she  knew,  be  so  brutal  to  her,  and  in  the  presence 
of  Dalton,  dazed  her  and  she  sank  into  the  chair  to  which 
John  led  her  shivering  and  cowering  and  with  the  feel- 
ing that  the  world  was  coming  to  an  end. 

John  stood  beside  her,  his  arm  thrown  over  the  tall 
back  of  her  chair,  and  his  attitude,  which  looked,  as  he 
intended  it  should,  like  one  of  protection,  drove  Peyton 
to  greater  fury. 

"Take  your  arm  off  that  chair!"  he  shouted.  "Go 
away  from  my  sister!  How  dare  you  come  interfering 
here  after  what  I  told  you  this  morning!" 

If  there  is  ever  an  excuse  for  such  bursts  of  uncon- 
trollable passion,  there  was  some  little  excuse  for  Pey- 
ton. A  temper  inherited  from  generations  of  fire-eaters, 
usually  kept  under  perfect  control  and  but  seldom  indeed, 
in  the  conditions  of  modern  life  aroused,  had  suddenly 
burst  all  bounds.  There  was  generous  wrath  in  it  tow- 
ard his  sister,  that  she  should  have  been  guilty  of  such 


THE  LEADER  273 

disloyalty  to  Hugh — for  he  firmly  believed  in  the  en- 
gagement— and  there  was  towering  rage  towards  the 
man  who,  he  believed  willfully  and  knowingly,  had  led 
her  into  such  betrayal — such  dishonor  to  the  blood  of  the 
Le  Beaus. 

The  picture  framed  in  the  window — Dalton  holding 
Margaret's  hand  and  looking  down  into  her  eyes  look- 
ing up  at  him — aroused  him  to  a  fury  which  became 
ungovernable  madness  when  he  discovered  the  locked 
door.  Dalton's  coolness,  so  far  from  soothing  him  only 
wrought  his  frenzy  higher,  and  but  for  Margaret's  pres- 
ence he  would  probably  have  proceeded  to  personal 
violence. 

Dalton,  erect  by  Margaret's  chair,  paid  no  heed  to 
Peyton's  furious  orders.  His  grey  eyes  looking  coolly 
into  Peyton's  frenzied  ones,  he  was  inwardly  boiling 
with  indignation.  For  a  moment  he  wished  the  old 
code  was  in  force.  He  could  understand  how  men  could 
want  to  settle  a  quarrel  of  this  kind  by  the  duel — though 
heretofore  it  had  seemed  to  him  the  most  senseless  as 
well  as  the  most  barbarous  of  customs.  Since  that  was 
impossible,  there  was  nothing  John  was  so  greatly  desir- 
ing at  this  moment,  as  the  absence  of  Margaret,  which 
would  permit  him  to  give  Peyton  the  thrashing  he  de- 
served. He  did  not  doubt  that  he  could  do  it,  for  though 
Peyton  was  as  tall  as  he,  John  was  broader  of  shoulder 
and  he  felt  at  that  moment  the  strength  of  a  giant  in 
his  good  right  arm  tingling  to  avenge  on  Peyton  the 
indignity  to  his  sister.  His  indignation  was  for  Mar- 
garet. He  cared  little  for  what  Peyton  had  said  to  him, 


274  THE  LEADER 

he  had  always  recognized  the  hostility  of  his  attitude 
toward  him  from  the  day  when  he  had  first  seen  his 
horse's  ears  pricking  over  the  Osage  hedge — but  that 
he  should  treat  Margaret  with  such  brutality  made  him 
rage  at  the  banality  of  a  situation  which  would  not  per- 
mit him  to  fight  Margaret's  brother  in  Margaret's  be- 
half. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence  while  the  two  men 
glared  at  each  other,  John  holding  himself  quiet  by 
strong  restraint,  determined  for  Margaret's  sake  to  say 
nothing  that  should  add  fury  to  the  flame,  Peyton  gather- 
ing himself  together  for  a  new  burst  of  wrath.  Margaret 
had  been  at  first  like  some  dumb  animal  who  shrinks 
from  the  blow  of  a  hand  that  has  never  before  been  raised 
but  in  caresses.  But  at  Peyton's  words  to  Dalton  the 
blood  flowed  swiftly  back  from  her  heart  and  beat 
strongly  through  her  veins.  The  returning  tide  brought 
her  to  her  feet  and  her  eyes  flashed  as  imperiously  as 
Peyton's  though  without  their  madness. 

"Peyton,  how  dare  you!"  she  exclaimed,  and  John 
could  hardly  believe  the  ringing  tones  were  not  the  little 
Peggy's.  History  had  curiously  repeated  itself  and  for 
the  moment  his  vision  swam  and  they  three  were  again 
at  the  red  gravel  entrance  to  Beauvoir,  the  child  in  her 
little  cart,  the  man  on  his  horse  and  John  in  the  dusty 
garb  of  a  tramp. 

"How  dare  you!"  she  cried.  "Mr.  Dalton  is  my 
friend  and  neither  he  nor  I  deserve  such  treatment  from 
you." 

Then  a  sudden  wave  of  mingled  love  and  pity  for  her 


THE  LEADER  275 

brother  seemed  to  sweep  over  her  and  just  as  years  be- 
fore she  had  turned  to  John  with  her  stately  little  apol- 
ogy for  Peyton,  she  turned  to  him  again. 

"Mr.  Dalton,"  she  said — and  now  she  could  not  keep 
her  chin  from  quivering  piteously  and  the  quick  tears 
from  springing  to  her  eyes — "You  must  excuse  my 
brother.  I  do  not  know  what  he  means  by  speaking  to 
you  s.o,  and  oh,  I  hope  you  will  believe  he  has  never  been 
like  this  before;  he  has  always  been  the  best  of  brothers." 

Her  voice  broke  on  the  last  word.  The  quivering 
chin,  the  breaking  voice  were  more  than  Peyton  could 
stand.  He  adored  his  sister  and  his  anger  toward  her 
had  lasted  but  for  a  moment.  Let  her  be  right  or 
wrong,  she  was  still  his  idolized  Margaret,  and  his  love 
for  her  at  sight  of  her  distress  rushed  tumultuously  back 
again,  mingled  with  a  keen  remorse  for  his  treatment  of 
her. 

"Margaret,"  he  exclaimed  in  agonized  entreaty, 
"forgive  me!" 

Margaret  turned  and  looked  at  him.  His  arms  were 
out-stretched  toward  her — in  a  flash  all  was  forgiven  and 
forgotten.  Nothing  remained  in  her  heart  but  a  great 
joy  that  her  brother  had  come  to  himself  again.  With 
a  divine  smile  of  forgiveness,  and  with  a  murmured, 
"Oh,  Peyton!"  expressing  all  her  anguish  and  all  her 
joy,  she  fled  to  his  arms  and  for  a  brief  moment,  her  head 
upon  his  shoulder  gave  way  to  uncontrollable  tears. 

John,  standing  aloof  and  watching  the  reconciliation 
of  brother  and  sister,  felt  the  keenest  pain  of  his  life. 
Margaret  had  forgotten  him!  What  was  this  new  love 


276  THE  LEADER 

if  there  was  any  in  her  heart  for  him,  compared  with 
the  old  traditions,  the  tender  affection  of  a  lifetime! 

He  had  never  known  the  love  of  either  brother  or 
sister.  He  venerated  the  memory  of  a  sturdy  farmer 
father  whose  unbending  honesty  of  purpose  and  upright- 
ness of  life  were  the  principal  legacies  he  had  bequeathed 
his  son,  and  he  had  tenderly  loved  his  frail  and  gentle 
mother  whose  ambitions  for  her  boy  had  been  his  inspir- 
ation, but  they  were  but  memories,  and  at  this  lonely 
moment  it  seemed  to  him,  there  could  be  nothing  in  life 
quite  so  satisfying  as  the  love  and  companionship  of 
such  a  sister  as  Margaret  was  to  Peyton.  He  had  been 
afraid  to  leave  her  alone  with  her  brother  when  that  bro- 
ther had  seemed  a  raving  maniac;  he  need  fear  no  longer, 
and  he  would  go.  They  were  sufficient  for  each  other, 
and  he  was  outside  the  pale  of  even  their  thoughts  at 
such  a  moment  as  this. 

It  was  only  for  an  instant  that  Margaret's  head  was 
buried  on  Peyton's  shoulder;  she  lifted  it  again  quickly 
and  turned  to  Dalton  with  a  wistful  smile  that  seemed 
to  ask  his  forgiveness  for  making  a  "scene"  while  it 
timidly  included  him  in  the  reconciliation  with  her  bro- 
ther. 

But  if  either  she  or  John  supposed  that  Peyton's  plea 
for  forgiveness  had  meant  to  include  also  forgiveness 
for  his  treatment  of  Dalton,  they  were  both  quickly  un- 
deceived. Peyton  lifted  his  head  as  Margaret  lifted 
hers  and  bent  upon  Dalton  a  glance  imperiously  and  re- 
lentlessly hostile.  John  did  not  hesitate  a  moment.  A 
pride  as  towering  as  Peyton's  and  almost  as  relentlessly 


THE  LEADER  277 

hostile  flashed  for  a  moment  from  his  eyes  to  Peyton's 
and  then  he  walked  deliberately  across  to  a  table  where 
his  hat  lay,  picked  it  up  and  turned  to  Margaret  with  an 
extended  hand. 

"Miss  Le  Beau/'  he  said,  "I  must  thank  you  for  all 
your  goodness  to  me.  I  am  not  ungrateful,  and  if  I  am 
saying  now  farewell  and  not  'auf  wiedersehen'  it  is 
through  no  fault  of  mine." 

He  held  her  hand  the  fraction  of  a  second,  and  looked 
straight  down  into  her  eyes,  coolly  oblivious  of  Peyton, 
his  glance  saying  a  thousand  things  his  lips  might  not 
utter.  Perhaps  in  that  brief  waiting  he  was  hoping 
Margaret  would  bid  him  return,  or  at  least  utter  the 
"Auf  weidersehen"  that  he  could  not.  But  she  only 
looked  at  him  with  strangely  startled  eyes  as  if  she  could 
not  at  once  take  in  the  meaning  of  his  words. 

He  seemed  for  a  moment  about  to  say  something  more 
but  thought  better  of  it,  dropped  her  hand  hastily,  and 
without  looking  toward  Peyton  passed  quickly  through 
the  door  and  out  into  the  world  of  ruin  and  devastation 
the  great  storm  at  Beauvoir  had  left  in  its  track,  and 
that  seemed  to  him  but  the  faint  counterpart  of  the 
ruined  ambitions,  the  shattered  hopes  that  at  this  mo- 
ment blackened  all  the  future  for  him. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

MARGARET  TEARS   A   NOTE  TO   PIECES. 

It  was  characteristic  of  John,  as  perhaps  it  is  of  all 
strong  natures,  to  sink  to  the  lowest  depths  under  any 
overwhelming  sorrow  or  disappointment.  Not  until  he 
had  explored  every  subterranean  channel  of  woe,  tasted 
the  full  bitterness  of  sorrow  and  defeat,  could  he  rise  once 
more  to  the  surface  of  life  mentally  and  spiritually  puri- 
fied, calm  and  strong  again  to  renew  the  battle. 

As  long  as  he  was  in  sight  of  the  Beauvoir  windows  he 
held  his  head  high  and  his  shoulders  squared,  while  he 
dragged  great  branches  out  of  his  path  or  climbed  over 
the  trunks  of  mighty  trees  making  a  slow  and  laborious 
progress.  But  where  the  spreading  oak  stood  sentinel 
at  the  entrance  to  Beauvoir  was  quite  out  of  range,  and 
there  he  stopped  and  leaned  against  its  sturdy  trunk, 
untouched  by  the  storm  that  had  raged  around  it,  and 
for  a  long  hour  with  bowed  head  and  folded  arms  he  let 
the  whole  sea  of  sorrow  roll  over  him,  wave  after  wave, 
billow  after  billow. 

There  seemed  but  little  left  in  life  for  him  to  struggle 
for.  He  knew  now  as  he  would  know  twenty  years 
hence,  that  no  other  woman  could  enter  his  life  as  Mar- 
garet had  done.  He  fully  believed  that  he  had  been  un- 
consciously waiting  for  her  all  these  years,  only  to  have 
her  snatched  from  him  at  the  very  moment  that  she  was 
ready  to  surrender  herself  to  him;  for  so  he  had  inter- 
preted her  murmured  "I  am  so  glad,"  and  the  wonder- 


THE  LEADER  279 

ful  light  in  her  eyes  lifted  to  his. 

Not  for  a  moment  did  he  believe  she  was  engaged  to 
Hugh.  This  last  scene  with  Peyton  only  made  him  the 
more  ready  to  believe  him  capable  of  a  lie  to  compass  his 
own  ends,  and  made  it  also  the  more  impossible  to  doubt 
Margaret's  sincerity.  None  the  less  it  was  all  over.  A 
beautiful  vision  had  entered  his  life  and  for  a  few  days 
glorified  it  beyond  the  dreams  of  Paradise;  but  it  was 
only  a  vision,  and  for  him  the  dream  of  Paradise  was 
ended.  Her  brother  would  never  for  a  moment  tolerate 
a  man  of  the  people — John  had  unerringly  placed  his 
finger  on  the  root  of  Peyton's  hostility — and  Margaret 
was  not  a  woman  to  defy  her  brother  whose  ardent  love 
for  his  sister  had  been  evident  to  Dalton  through  all  the 
height  of  his  fury  against  her,  even  if  she  were  willing  to 
sacrifice  the  traditions  which  John  recognized  had  for 
both  brother  and  sister  a  weight  of  authority  beyond  his 
comprehension.  And  with  the  bitterness  of  pride — un- 
worthy, doubtless,  but  natural  at  a  moment  of  such 
humiliation — he  added  to  himself  that  nothing  now, 
not  Margaret  herself,  could  ever  induce  him  to  renew  a 
suit  that  had  been  so  scornfully  rejected  by  Margaret's 
brother.  Like  a  sweet  morsel  under  his  tongue,  also, 
he  rolled  the  old  bitterness  of  his  political  defeats.  It 
was  all  of  a  piece — he  was  nothing  now  but  a  shattered 
wreck  of  less  use  in  the  world  than  these  wrecks  of  the 
storm  that  lay  all  about  him  and  made  Le  Beau  Way 
look  like  a  long  impassable  avenue  of  ruin. 

Yet  along  this  impassable  avenue  there  was  coming  at 
this  moment,  making  slow  but  steady  progress,  a  horse 


280  THE  LEADER 

and  its  rider.  Sometimes  the  horse  trampled  the  torn 
branches  beneath  his  feet,  sometimes  he  picked  his  way 
carefully  around  them,  sometimes  he  boldly  leaped  a 
fallen  trunk  and  sometimes  the  rider  was  compelled  to 
dismount  and  clear  the  path  for  him.  When  John  first 
heard  the  crackling  of  branches  he  had  been  so  deeply 
submerged  by  those  billows  of  woe  that  the  sound  had  fall- 
en on  unheeding  ears.  But  with  the  irrepressible  buoy- 
ancy of  his  nature,  he  was  beginning  to  get  his  head 
above  the  waves  and  discern  a  faint  gleam  of  light  pierc- 
ing the  black  pall  of  the  future,  and  the  light  had  come 
to  him  with  the  thought  that  there  was  still  some  work 
for  him  to  do.  There  was  still  enough  of  his  old  influence 
with  the  party  remaining  from  the  wreck  to  make  him 
a  power  to  be  counted  with  and  he  had  left  it  an  open 
question  with  himself  whether  that  power  should  be 
used  for  Berkeley  or  not.  He  knew  that  without  doubt 
that  question  was  at  this  very  moment  giving  the  party 
leaders  some  bad  quarters  of  an  hour  and  a  grim  smile 
lifted  the  drooping  corners  of  his  mouth  and  a  tiny  twin- 
kle sparkled  in  his  gloomy  eyes  at  the  thought. 

It  was  then  that  he  became  conscious  of  the  sound  of 
breaking  branches  and  knew  that  he  had  been  hearing 
them  for  some  time,  and  looking  up  espied  Hugh  on 
Selim's  back  not  far  away  making  a  painful  progress 
toward  him.  John  hoped  and  believed  that  he  had  not 
himself  been  discovered  in  his  attitude  of  dejection  and 
it  was  with  an  air  of  most  buoyant  cheer  that  he  waved 
his  hat  and  shouted  a  stentorian  greeting  to  Hugh  as  he 
plunged  into  the  sea  of  leafage  and  advanced  towards 


THE  LEADER  281 

him. 

He  made  better  progress  on  foot  than  Hugh  could  pos- 
sibly make  on  his  horse,  and  Hugh's  first  words  were  an 
apology  for  having  brought  Sclim. 

"It  was  not  nearly  so  bad  a  storm  up  at  Kent  Hall," 
he  said,  "or  I  should  have  known  it  was  much  wiser  to 
try  it  afoot."  And  then  he  added — "It  was  necessary 
for  someone  to  come.  We  tried  to  get  Beauvoir  by 
telephone  but  the  wires  are  down.  Is  everything  all 
right  at  the  house?  No  one  hurt?" 

"Everybody  all  right"  answered  John,  recognizing  the 
anxiety  in  Hugh's  tones,  "or  at  least,  Mr.  Le  Beau  and 
his  sister  are.  Miss  Elisa  was  not  at  home,  she  was 
spending  the  day  at  Elmhurst,  I  think  they  said." 

"That's  good,"  said  Hugh  simply,  and  then  produced 
a  blue  and  white  envelope  which  he  handed  to  John. 

"This  came,"  he  said,  "just  as  the  storm  broke.  I 
had  to  wait  until  it  was  over,  of  course,  before  starting  to 
bring  it  to  you,  and  I  have  been  all  this  time  since  get- 
ting here." 

"Oh,"  said  John,  "too  bad  you  should  have  taken 
such  trouble — I've  no  doubt  it  could  easily  have  waited. 
But  it  was  very  good  of  you." 

"Not  at  all.  I  was  anxious  about  the  Beauvoir  peo- 
ple and  should  have  come  over  even  if  there  had  been  no 
telegram  to  bring,  since  I  could  not  get  them  by  phone." 

And  John,  who  was  quite  convinced  of  the  truth  of 
this  statement,  expressed  no  more  regrets,  but  tore  open 
his  telegram. 

Hugh,  noting  the  deep  lines  between  his  eyes  as  he 


282  THE  LEADER 

read  and  his  grave  face  said  with  respectful  anxiety: 
"No  bad  news,  sir,  I  hope?" 

"By  no  means,"  answered  John,  looking  up  with  an 
alertness  of  expression  that  Hugh  had  not  seen  in  his 
face  since  that  all  night  session  of  the  convention,  "It's 
from  the  Chairman  of  the  National  Committee.  He 
asks  me  to  meet  the  committee  in  New  York  on  Thursday 
and  I  was  hesitating  for  a  moment  whether  to  say  yes 
or  no,  but  I've  decided  it  shall  be  yes.  That  is,"  he 
added,  "if  I  can  get  into  the  city  in  time  for  a  night  train. 
This  is  Tuesday  and  I  can  only  just  make  it." 

Two  hours  before  it  would  have  taken  John  longer  to 
decide.  He  was  quite  willing  to  keep  the  party  leaders 
on  tenterhooks  for  awhile,  and  it  was  soothing  to  his 
wounded  vanity  to  see  that  they  were  fully  as  anxious 
about  his  future  course  as  he  had  thought  they  would 
be.  Two  hours  before,  therefore,  he  might  have  made 
further  concessions  to  what  he  would  have  called  his 
dignity,  by  holding  off  and  waiting  for  a  more  peremp- 
tory summons.  But  now  here  was  the  very  excuse  he 
wanted  to  get  away  at  once.  It  looked  to  him  like  a 
kindly  interposition  of  the  fates  or,  as  he  would  probably 
have  put  it — for  he  was  innately  religious — a  direct 
leading  of  Providence.  He  would  be  worse  than  fool- 
ish to  refuse  this  opening.  Moreover  the  telegram  had 
brought  the  smell  of  gunpowder  to  his  nostrils  and  he 
was  at  once  keen  for  the  battle  field;  a  keenness  that 
showed  in  the  alertness  and  decision  of  every  movement. 
His  hour  of  depression  was  over — the  time  for  action 
had  arrived,  and  his  spirits  rose  to  meet  it. 


THE  LEADER  283 

Hugh,  who  was  genuinely  disappointed  that  Dalton's 
visit  should  be  cut  so  short,  and  expressed  his  disap- 
pointment earnestly,  soon  caught  the  contagion  of  his 
energy  and  instead  of  going  on  to  Beauvoir  as  he  had 
intended,  turned  back  at  once  with  John  to  make  every 
arrangement  that  would  facilitate  his  catching  the  six 
o'clock  train  to  the  city. 

Margaret's  eyes  followed  Dalton  as  he  walked  across 
the  room,  opened  the  door  and  closed  it  behind  him.  It 
was  a  long  look,  that  remained  fixed  on  the  closed  door 
even  when  his  step  no  longer  sounded  on  the  verandah ; 
and  still  lingered  when  the  crackling  of  branches,  as  he 
cleared  a  path  for  himself,  had  quite  ceased.  It  was  a 
look  that  struck  terror  to  Peyton's  soul.  Was  it  pos- 
sible that  his  sister  was  more  deeply  interested  in  Dalton 
than  he  had  for  a  moment  supposed? 

She  had  drawn  herself  aloof  from  him  when  she  dis- 
covered that  his  aspect  was  still  hostile  to  Dalton,  and 
now,  as  she  slowly  withdrew  her  fixed  gaze  from  the  door 
through  which  John  had  vanished,  she  turned  without 
glancing  at  Peyton,  and  began  as  slowly  to  mount  the 
stairs. 

"Margaret!  Margaret!  do  not  leave  me  so,"  Peyton 
called  to  her,  as,  her  foot  on  the  first  stair,  he  saw  that 
she  was  really  leaving  him  without  a  word. 

Margaret  put  her  next  foot  on  the  second  stair  without 
apparently  hearing  him,  and  he  called  her  again  more 
importunately: 


284  THE  LEADER 

"Come  back,  Margaret!  Come  back,  little  sister! 
Come  and  let  us  talk  it  over!" 

Then  Margaret  turned,  but  there  was  no  yielding  in  her 
face  or  voice. 

"I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you,"  she  said  coldly,  "and 
I  do  not  suppose  you  are  ready  to  say  to  me  the  only 
thing  I  am  willing  to  hear." 

"Margaret,"  he  exclaimed,  passionately,  advancing  to 
the  foot  of  the  stair-case  and  looking  up  at  her  where  she 
stood  two  steps  above  him,  "is  it  possible  that  you  can 
care  so  much  for  that  fellow  that  you  will  let  him  come 
between  you  and  me?" 

"The  impossible  has  been  proved  possible  several 
times  in  the  last  few  moments."  Margaret  still  spoke 
icily  and  as  if  she  were  discussing  a  question  entirely 
indifferent  to  her.  "I  had  never  supposed  it  possible 
that  my  brother  could  have  used  violence  towards  me; 
still  less  could  I  have  supposed  it  possible  that  Peyton 
Le  Beau,  in  his  own  house,  could  have  insulted  and  out- 
raged a  guest  of  the  house  and  his  sister's  friend." 

By  this  time  Peyton  had  possessed  himself  of  her  hand 
which  lay  limp  in  his  with  no  return  of  his  eager  pressure. 

"Come  down,  Margaret,"  he  implored,  "and  let  us 
talk  it  over.  Oh  it  is  all  wretched,  and  there  was  no  ex- 
cuse for  my  ungentlemanly  passion,  but  I  think  I  have 
had  some  provocation  too.  Will  you  come  and  talk  it 
over?" 

Still  Margaret  hesitated  for  a  moment.  But  beneath 
the  iciness  of  her  exterior  she  was  ardently  longing  for 
Peyton  to  be  able  to  clear  himself,  or  rather,  since  that 


THE  LEADER  285 

was  impossible,  longing  that  he  should  come  into  a  frame 
of  mind  willing  to  make  the  apologies  to  Dalton  neces- 
sary if  there  was  to  be  any  continuance  of  her  friend- 
ship with  him. 

She  yielded  finally,  therefore,  and  let  him  lead  her 
down  the  steps  to  their  old  cosy  corner  between  the  west 
and  south  windows,  where  as  long  ago  as  she  could  re- 
member, every  important  conference  of  her  life  with 
Peyton  had  taken  place.  Scoldings,  advice,  confidences 
had  all  been  bestowed  in  that  deep  and  comfortable 
corner  divan,  just  big  enough  for  two.  The  spot  had 
so  many  memories  thronging  about  it  that  the  very 
atmosphere  enveloping  it  was  impregnated  with  her 
childhood,  her  girlhood,  her  young  womanhood,  and  all 
of  it  with  Peyton,  her  more  than  brother,  her  hardly  less 
than  father. 

The  very  selection  of  this  sacred  spot  had  given  Peyton 
a  position  of  advantage  that  he  was  quick  to  make  the 
most  of  and  that  Margaret  felt  that  she  must  stiffen  her- 
self against. 

"Do  you  remember,  Margaret,"  he  began,  and  was 
going  on  to  recall  some  of  the  tender  associations  of  the 
spot — but  Margaret  stopped  him: 

"I'm  not  here  to  recall  the  past,  Peyton,  I  thought 
you  had  something  of  importance  to  say  to  me." 

Much  as  Peyton  adored  his  sister,  there  had  been  mo- 
ments in  his  life  when  he  also  stood  in  awe  of  her,  but 
never  so  greatly  as  at  this  moment.  He  hardly  recog- 
nized in  this  coldly  dispassionate  woman  his  impulsive 
and  warm-hearted  Margaret.  For  a  moment  he  had  the 


286  THE  LEADER 

curious  sensation  that  in  some  mysterious  fashion  they 
had  exchanged  personalities;  Margaret  was  his  own  cyn- 
ical self  in  woman-form  and  he  was  the  tender  and  ap- 
pealing Margaret.  He  hesitated  a  moment,  but  he 
quickly  decided  it  was  better  to  give  up  the  appeal  ad 
hominem  he  had  intended  and  go  at  once  to  the  root  of 
the  matter: 

"I  have  something  of  importance  to  say,  Margaret. 
Without  doubt  you  think  I  had  no  right  to  speak  to 
Mr.  Dalton  as  I  did;  certainly  there  is  no  excuse  for  my 
rough  treatment  of  you.  But  will  you  for  a  moment 
consider  my  feelings  as  I  ran  by  that  window  and  saw 
that  man  holding  my  sister's  hand  and  looking  ador- 
ingly at  her,  and  she — permitting — it?  And  then,  of 
course,  finding  the  door  locked  made  it  just  so  much 
worse." 

He  waited  for  Margaret  to  reply,  and  she  began  calmly 
enough : 

"The  locked  door  was  perfectly  natural — it  was  bar- 
red to  secure  it  from  the  wind  and  neither  of  us  remem- 
bered to  unlock  it."  But  she  went  on  with  more  effort, 
and  there  was  a  little  vibration  in  her  low  tones  and  a 
slowly  mounting  color  in  her  pale  cheeks,  that  betrayed 
her  deep  feeling : 

"I  know  of  no  reason,  Peyton,  why  Mr.  Dalton  should 
not  have  been  doing  all  that  you  say  he  was  doing — if 
I  chose  to  permit  it." 

"Margaret!    What  of  Hugh!" 

There  was  shocked  indignation  in  Peyton's  tones,  and 
Margaret,  recognizing  it,  grew  cool  again. 


THE  LEADER  287 

"I  do  not  see  what  Hugh  has  to  do  with  it." 

"Are  you  not  engaged  to  him?"  the  rising  inflection  of 
Peyton's  voice  expressed  his  wonder  and  bewilderment, 
a  doubt  as  to  this  engagement  beginning  at  last  to  pen- 
etrate his  mind. 

"Certainly  not!" 

"I  do  not  understand  you,  Margaret,"  said  Peyton, 
for  the  first  time  speaking  as  coldly  as  she  had  spoken. 
"I  did  not  suppose  the  tender  scene  I  interrupted  in  the 
library  at  Devonshire  Place  could  be  accounted  for  on 
any  other  hypothesis." 

It  was  a  full  minute  before  Margaret  replied,  and  Pey- 
ton waited,  almost  as  indignant  with  her  as  he  had  been 
when  he  first  entered  the  room,  watching  her  sitting 
absolutely  motionless,  her  eyes  on  her  hands  lying 
quietly  in  her  lap.  She  was  very  angry  with  Peyton, 
but  it  had  come  to  her  in  a  flash  how  easily  that  interview 
with  Hugh  might  have  been  misunderstood  by  one  com- 
ing in  on  it  as  Peyton  had  done,  and  how  shocking  all 
her  interest  in  Dalton  and  her  encouragement  of  him 
must  have  seemed  to  her  high-minded  brother  in  the  light 
of  his  belief  in  the  engagement.  She  could  not  endure 
that  he  should  think  so  meanly  of  her  and  she  resolved 
to  be  very  explicit  that  there  might  be  no  more 
misunderstandings.  But  it  was  not  easy  for  her  to  talk 
of  such  intimate  matters,  even  with  Peyton,  and  espe- 
cially did  she  shrink  from  what  seemed  to  her  like  the 
betrayal  of  a  sacred  confidence  in  speaking  of  Hugh  and 
his  disappointment.  It  was  with  great  effort  that  she 
began,  therefore,  and  her  tones  were  much  gentler  and 


288  THE  LEADER 

sweeter  than  they  had  been  so  far: 

"You  interrupted  no  tender  scene,  Peyton,  and  Hugh 
and  I  are  not  engaged.  Hugh  knows  that  there  is  no 
possibility  that  we  will  ever  be  and  he  would  be  as  sorry 
as  I  am  if  he  knew  that  you  had  made  such  a  mistake." 

Peyton  looked  at  her  dumbfounded.  His  belief  in 
the  engagement  had  been  so  entire  he  could  not  lightly 
resign  it.  Moreover  he  was  of  that  persistent  nature 
that  must  probe  a  matter  to  the  quick. 

"But  Margaret,"  he  remonstrated,  "did  you  not  tell 
me  that  you  were  going  to  give  Hugh  a  trial  this  sum- 
mer?" 

"Yes,"  said  Margaret,  and  now  the  color  began  to 
deepen  in  her  cheeks  and  her  hands  trembled  a  little 
while  she  kept  her  eyes  still  downcast,  "and  I  did  try, 
but — I  found  it  was  not  possible — I  do  not  believe  you 
can  force  such  things,  Peyton." 

"There,"  said  Peyton  quickly,  touched  by  the  signs  of 
her  distress,  "I'll  not  pry  into  your  affairs  any  further, 
Margaret.  I'm  sorry;  my  heart  was  quite  set  on  you 
and  Hugh  making  a  go  of  it,  but  of  course  if  you  can't, 
it's  all  right." 

Then  a  sudden  thought  struck  him. 

"What  a  fool  I  was!"  he  exclaimed  sharply. 

Margaret  looked  up  at  him  quickly,  and  in  a  flash  of 
intuition  she  understood  Peyton's  words  to  Dalton — 
"How  dare  you  come  interfering  here  after  what  I  told 
you  this  morning." 

"Did  you  tell  Mr.  Dalton  I  was  engaged  to  Hugh?" 
she  asked  quietly.  But  Peyton  was  not  deceived— there 


THE  LEADER  289 

was  the  ring  of  steel  under  the  velvet  of  her  tones.  The 
light  bronze  of  his  cheek  slowly  deepened  to  dull  red. 
"Forgive  me,  Margaret,"  he  entreated  humbly.  "What 
a  meddling  Miss  Nancy  you  must  think  me!  I  will  make 
any  amends  you  want  me  to.  I  will  write  him  a  note 
and  tell  him  it  was  all  a  mistake  and  that  I  was  an 
officious  ass." 

"And  will  you  also  apologize  for  your  insult  to  him?" 

Margaret  was  still  implacable.  It  seemed  to  her  in- 
tolerable that  Dalton  should  be  led  to  believe  her  that 
despicable  creature  who  could  trifle  with  one  man  while 
engaged  to  another.  Nor  did  it  comfort  her  that  his 
manner  to  her  during  and  after  the  storm  was  not  the 
manner  of  a  man  towards  a  woman  whom  he  believed 
capable  of  such  falseness.  Instead,  she  shudderingly 
thought  that  this  hideous  mistake  probably  accounted 
for  the  change  towards  her  which  she  had  attributed  to 
sensitiveness  over  his  defeat,  and  she  winced  as  at  the 
touch  of  raw  flesh  as  she  remembered  her  wooing  of  him 
in  the  woods  and  how  he  must  have  regarded  it. 

"Margaret,"  said  Peyton  humbly,  "I  will  do  every- 
thing you  want  me  to  do.  I  will  make  the  fullest  apol- 
ogy I  know  how  to  make,  only,  Margaret,  do  not  treat 
me  so  coldly.  Do  not  let  Dalton  come  between  me  and 
your  love." 

Then  he  seized  her  hand  and  held  it  close. 

"Margaret,  look  at  me!"  he  said  passionately — for 
through  this  last  speech  she  had  sat  impassive  her  eyes 
again  upon  her  hands  lying  quietly  in  her  lap,  and  he 
felt  as  if  he  were  talking  to  a  woman  of  stone.  "Mar- 


290  THE  LEADER 

garet,"  he  implored,  "we  have  been  so  happy  together. 
Only  promise  me  that  you  will  have  nothing  more  to  do 
with  that  man  and  we  will  be  so  happy  again." 

"That  is  hardly  necessary,"  said  Margaret  coldly, 
looking  up  at  him  as  she  spoke  with  no  yielding  in  her 
glance.  "You  have  effectually  destroyed  any  desire  on 
Mr.  Dalton's  part  to  have  anything  more  to  do  with  me,  I 
should  fancy." 

Peyton  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  groaned,  and 
then  at  last  Margaret  relented.  She  took  hold  of  his 
hands  and  drew  them  away  from  his  face  and  held  them 
warmly  clasped  in  hers  while  she  said  very  sweetly: 

"Only  write  that  note,  Peyton,  and  get  it  to  him  as 
quickly  as  possible,  and  I  will  try  not  to  make  you  un- 
happy any  more." 

But  after  all,  though  Peyton  went  to  his  desk  at  once 
and  wrote  a  note  that  he  handed  to  Margaret  to  read  and 
which  was  all  she  could  ask  in  the  way  of  apology  and  of 
setting  Dalton  right  as  to  her  engagement,  he  did  not 
get  it  to  him  as  quickly  as  he  had  intended. 

Gaston  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  and  the  note  must 
be  intrusted  to  old  Caesar.  But  first  Peyton's  horse  and 
Old  Nell  must  be  caught  and  saddled,  for  Peyton  must 
fetch  Tia  Elisa  home  and  no  carriage  could  make  a  pas- 
sage through  the  fallen  trees  and  branches  that  obstructed 
Le  Beau  way;  and  much  as  Tia  Elisa  disliked  to  entrust 
herself  to  a  horse's  back  there  was  no  other  possible  way 
of  bringing  her  home.  And  old  Caesar  was  slow  in  his 
movements;  and  the  storm  had  made  both  horses  wild 


THE  LEADER  291 

and  hard  to  catch,  Old  Nell  particularly  being  kittenish 
as  a  young  colt;  and  so  by  the  time  Peyton  had  started 
in  one  direction,  leading  Old  Nell,  and  Caesar  had  started 
in  the  other,  riding  a  long-eared  mule  and  bearing  the 
note  firmly  clutched  in  an  extended  hand,  the  afternoon 
was  far  spent. 

Margaret  did  not  know  why  she  had  been  in  such  a 
fever  of  impatience  at  these  repeated  delays.  Certainly 
there  could  be  no  reason  for  such  mad  haste  as  seemed  to 
her  imperative.  A  delay  of  a  few  hours  could  make  no 
real  difference — the  note,  she  was  sure,  would  be  equally 
welcome  earlier  or  later.  She  supposed  it  was  only  that 
she  could  not  bear  that  Mr.  Dalton  should  think  so  hard- 
ly of  her  brother.  And  then,  in  her  heart,  she  knew  that 
her  eagerness  to  clear  her  brother  was  as  nothing  as  com- 
pared with  her  intense  desire  that  John  should  not  remain 
for  one  unnecessary  moment  in  the  belief  that  she  was 
engaged  to  Hugh  and  had  been  but  playing  the  despic- 
able part  of  a  flirt.  She  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when 
she  saw  Caesar  at  last  ambling  down  the  red  gravel  drive 
and  knew  that  though  this  sable  Mercury  might  be  slow 
none  could  be  more  trustworthy. 

As  she  watched  him  disappear  down  the  steep  turn 
into  Le  Beau  Way  she  heard  the  whistle  of  the  six  o'clock 
train  for  the  city,  and  at  the  sound  she  was  oppressed  by 
a  vague  sense  of  uneasiness.  She  said  to  herself  it  was  a 
foolish  fear  for  Dalton  was  not  to  leave  Kent  Hall  for  nearly 
a  week,  and  he  was  not  the  man  to  cut  short  his  visit  to 
Hugh  because  of  a  quarrel  with  Peyton.  But  her  un- 
easiness was  not  to  be  quieted,  and  when  fifteen  minutes 


292  THE  LEADER 

later  she  saw,  through  the  wide  windows  of  the  living- 
room,  Hugh  riding  up  under  the  lindens  and  maples, 
she  divined  at  once  on  what  errand  he  had  come. 

The  evening  had  turned  cool  after  the  storm,  and  she 
had  lighted  the  fire,  always  ready  laid  in  the  great  fire- 
place, thinking  it  would  be  a  cheery  greeting  to  Tia 
Elisa  and  would  help  dispel  the  dampness  which  might 
easily  bring  on  her  aunt's  much  dreaded  rheumatism. 
Hie  outer  door  stood  wide  open  and  at  Hugh's  tap  on 
the  screen  door  she  bade  him  enter  without  rising  from 
the  comfortable  low  chair  she  had  drawn  up  before  the 
fire. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  Hugh  was  a  long  time  in  making 
his  eager  inquiries  for  their  welfare  during  the  storm  and 
in  drawing  up  a  deep  armed  chair  opposite  her  and  mak- 
ing himself  at  ease  in  it,  for  she  was  sure  through  it  all 
that  this  was  only  preliminary  to  an  impending  blow. 
When  he  clapped  his  hand  on  his  pocket,  she  knew  ex- 
actly what  was  to  follow,  and  when  he  drew  out  Peyton's 
note  to  Dalton  she  had  so  far  prepared  herself  for  it  that 
she  extended  her  hand  to  receive  it  with  the  utmost 
outward  calm. 

"I  met  Caesar,"  said  Hugh,  "on  my  way  back  from  the 
station  and  took  charge  of  Peyton's  note.  I  hope  it  was 
nothing  of  importance.  Mr.  Dalton  was  called  away  by 
a  telegram  from  the  Chairman  of  the  National  Committee 
summoning  him  to  a  conference  in  New  York.  He  sent 
his  good-byes  to  his  friends  at  Beauvoir,  and  particularly 
to  Tia  Elisa.  He's  as  much  in  love  with  Tia  Elisa  as 
the  rest  of  us.  We're  terribly  cut  up  at  our  house  by  his 


THE  LEADER  293 

sudden  departure — it  has  broken  up  our  party." 

"Yes,  it  was  quite  too  bad,"  said  Margaret  quietly. 
"Did  he  really  have  to  go?  I  should  suppose  an  engage- 
ment with  you  would  be  as  much  an  obligation  as  a 
summons  from  the  party  leaders." 

"Oh,  you  can't  count  on  public  men,  I  suppose,"  said 
Hugh  dolefully,  "but  it's  a  blow.  I  thought  I  was  going 
to  give  him  such  a  good  time  this  week." 

"Very  likely  a  man  like  that  wouldn't  care  for  our 
good  times;  very  likely  they  seem  child's  play  to  him 
and  not  to  be  considered  for  a  moment  when  a  call  to 
politics  comes." 

There  was  the  slightest  shade  of  bitterness  in  Marga- 
ret's tones.  Hugh  was  not  particularly  surprised  at  it — 
the  women  at  Kent  Hall  had  showed  something  of  the 
same  spirit  at  the  announcement  of  Dalton's  departure — 
or  at  least  Julie  had.  He  answered  dubiously: 

"Perhaps,  but  I  thought  he  seemed  to  enjoy  the  pos- 
sum hunt  as  much  as  any  of  us.    No,  I  think  he  really 
had  to  go;  though  come  to  think  of  it,  I  believe  he  seemed 
in  better  spirits  after  receiving  that  telegram  than  he, 
has  seemed  since  the  convention." 

Margaret  did  not  answer;  she  was  playing  with  Pey- 
ton's note,  turning  it  over  and  over  and  apparently  con- 
sidering some  question  quite  remote  from  this  topic  of 
conversation.  To  Hugh's  astonishment,  he  saw  her, 
after  a  few  moments  of  this  deliberation,  begin  to  tear 
the  note  into  little  bits  and  feed  it  to  the  flames.  She 
became  suddenly  conscious  of  his  look,  and  glanced  up 
at  him  with  a  quick  flush  of  embarrassment. 


294  THE  LEADER 

"I  know  the  contents  of  Peyton's  note,  Hugh,"  she 
said  apologetically,  "and  it's  of  no  importance  at  all. 
Peyton  will  be  quite  willing  that  I  should  burn  it." 

Then  she  threw  the  last  bit  into  the  fire,  shook  a  tiny 
scrap  from  her  dress  and  looked  up  at  Hugh  with  an 
entire  change  of  manner. 

"There,  Hugh,"  she  said  lightly,  "that's  the  last  of 
Mr.  Dalton!  We've  seen  a  great  deal  of  him  lately,  but 
he  has  passed  out  of  our  lives  now  forever." 

"You've  burned  him  up,  have  you?"  said  Hugh,  re- 
sponding to  her  lightness.  But  in  his  heart  he  was  won- 
dering at  Margaret.  Dalton  had  aroused  in  him  an 
ardent  devotion  as  he  aroused  in  most  men  who  came 
closely  in  touch  with  him,  but  he  had  at  times,  also,  been 
keenly  jealous  of  him.  He  had  suspected  that  it  was  Mar- 
garet's interest  in  Dalton  that  had  been  responsible  for  his 
own  swift  fall  from  the  highest  pinnacle  of  hope  to  the 
lowest  depths  of  despair.  Now  Margaret  had  said  it 
was  all  over  with  Dalton — did  that  mean  there  was  any 
hope  for  him?  Hugh  knew  he  was  a  fool  to  let  himself 
ever  again,  no  matter  what  the  provocation,  feel  any 
stirrings  of  hope,  but  none  the  less  at  her  words  there 
was  a  tiny  flutter  about  his  heart  and  a  new  light  in  his 
eyes. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

YES   OR   NO  ? 

It  was  as  Hugh  said:  Dalton's  sudden  departure  had 
created  consternation  at  Kent  Hall,  and,  as  Hugh  had 
not  said,  but  thought,  it  had  created  also  a  little  bitter- 
ness. 

It  was  Julie  who  felt  the  bitterness  and  expressed  it 
frankly,  for  Dalton's  departure  meant  Seton's  also. 

"I  don't  see  why  you  have  to  go  just  because  Mr. 
Dalton  goes,"  pouted  Julie. 

She  and  Seton  were  standing  in  one  of  the  walks  of  the 
famous  rose  garden,  and  it  was  the  most  delightfully 
secluded  spot  in  the  world  in  which  to  say  a  sudden  good- 
bye to  a  friend.  Julie  had  asked  him  here  ostensibly  to 
see  what  havoc  the  storm  had  made  with  the  rare  old 
roses;  really  to  say  good-bye. 

"Oh,  but  I  could  not  let  him  go  without  me,"  Frank 
had  replied  quickly  to  her  remonstrance,  "especially  on 
such  a  summons  as  this.  Why,  I  have  always  gone  with 
him,  to  every  convention  and  to  every  council." 

"Will  they  let  you  be  present  at  the  council?"  asked 
Julie  skeptically. 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  answered  Frank.  "But  then  I 
will  be  on  hand  to  talk  it  over  and  give  him  encourage- 
ment if  he  needs  it." 

"But  Mr.  Dalton  is  not  a  baby,  and  you  are  not  a 
nurse,"  she  insisted  petulantly. 


206  THE  LEADER 

Frank  laughed  boyishly. 

"I  reckon  if  there's  any  baby  in  the  question,  it's  not 
Dalton/'  he  declared  loyally;  and  then  added  half  wist- 
fully: 

"But  you  know,  Miss  Delauney,  we've  always  been 
together  since  we  were  boys — and — and — we  like  it." 

"Oh  well,  of  course,  if  you  prefer  taking  that  tiresome 
trip  to  New  York,  rather  than  stay  at  Kent  Hall  with 
our  party,  there's  nothing  more  to  be  said." 

Julie's  tone  betrayed  her  pique — intentionally,  per- 
haps, and  Frank  hastened  to  say  deprecatingly : 

"But  I  don't  prefer  it,  Miss  Delauney,  I  am  greatly 
disappointed  to  have  to  leave  Kent  Hall  so  unexpectedly 
and  before  my  visit  is  finished.  But  it  does  not  seem  to 
me  that  it  would  be  quite  right  to  desert  Mr.  Dalton 
now.  I  have  no  doubt  this  will  be  a  crucial  occasion." 

Julie  laughed  a  mocking  laugh.  Frank  reddened,  and 
with  an  unwonted  show  of  spirit,  for  him,  he  said  stiffly : 

"You  are  amused,  Miss  Delauney,  will  you  be  good 
enough  to  tell  me  why?" 

Julie  laughed  again,  and  then  she  said  half  scornfully : 

"Oh,  I  was  only  thinking  what  a  good  thing  it  is  that 
neither  you  nor  Mr.  Dalton  are  marrying  men.  What 
would  become  of  your  poor  wives  if  you  two  took  a  notion 
you  wanted  to  go  off  somewhere  together.  You  wouldn't 
stop  to  consider  them  for  a  moment." 

This  speech  threw  Frank  into  an  agony  of  embarrass- 
ment, as  no  doubt  Julie  knew  it  would.  To  refer  to  him 
as  a  marrying  man  or  not  a  marrying  man,  and  worse,  to 
speak  of  his  possible  wife,  sent  waves  of  crimson  rushing 


THE  LEADER  297 

to  his  very  ear-tips.  He  shuffled  uneasily  from  one  foot 
to  the  other,  looked  longingly  at  the  distant  house,  when 
he  dared  to  lift  his  eyes  from  the  ground,  and  if  he  could 
have  summoned  the  requisite  courage,  would  no  doubt 
have  fled  precipitately. 

Julie  relented. 

"Mr.  Seton,"  she  said  sweetly,  "it  is  horrid  of  me  to  be 
so  disagreeable  just  when  you  are  leaving  us.  But  I  am 
really  so  disappointed,  it  makes  me  cross,  and  I'm  no 
angel  like  Helen.  Forgive  me,  please." 

She  looked  at  him  shyly  and  still  half  pouting,  like  a 
naughty  child  trying  to  be  good. 

"Miss  Delauney,"  stammered  Frank,  with  a  sudden 
rush  of  courage,  "you  are  an  angel,  and — and — I  hope 
you  will  not  think  I  am  not  a  marrying  man.  Only — I 
never  until  now  found  the  right  one." 

And  then  his  courage  ebbed  as  swiftly  as  it  had  risen. 
He  heard  Dalton  calling  for  him. 

"I  must  go,  Miss  Delauney,"  he  faltered  hurriedly,  and 
extending  his  hand  for  good-bye — "But  will  you  let  me 
write  you?" 

Julie  put  her  hand  in  his  and  looked  up  at  him  so  be- 
witchingly,  so  temptingly,  that  Frank  entirely  lost  his 
head.  Hardly  knowing  what  he  was  doing,  he  threw  his 
arm  around  her,  gave  her  a  hasty  but  determined  kiss, 
and  then  literally  ran  for  the  house,  not  once  looking 
back. 

To  do  Julie  justice,  this  was  more  than  she  had  bar- 
gained for.  She  might  be  a  little  flirt,  but  it  was  never 
in  her  scheme  of  flirtation  to  allow  matters  to  go  so  far 


298  THE  LEADER 

as  a  kiss.  And  that  Seton  of  all  men,  professed  woman- 
hater,  but  actually  holding  all  women  in  great  awe  and 
reverence,  as  she  had  easily  discovered,  should  have  dared 
to  be  so  bold,  astonished  and  confounded  her.  She  fol- 
lowed him  slowly  to  the  house  and  when,  a  half  hour 
later,  it  was  necessary  to  make  her  appearance  to  say 
good-bye  to  the  two  departing  guests,  she  betrayed  al- 
most as  much  confusion  as  Seton,  towards  whom  she 
hardly  glanced. 

But  she  recovered  her  wits  sufficiently  when  in  giving 
him  her  hand  in  farewell  she  felt  him  leave  a  scrap  of 
paper  within  it,  to  conceal  the  tiny  note  until  she  could 
find  a  good  excuse  for  going  to  her  room  where  she  could 
read  it  undisturbed. 

"The  dear  old  goose!  if  that  isn't  too  like  him!"  she 
murmured,  half  tender,  half  amused,  as  she  read  Frank's 
words: 

"Forgive  me.  I  couldn't  help  it.  Will  you  be  my 
wife?  Wire  yes  or  no  to  train  No.  10  Pennsylvania  R.  R. 
at  Columbus." 

Her  first  impulse  was  a  little  thrill  of  triumph.  She 
had  succeeded  in  landing  this  difficult  fish,  as  gamey  as  a 
salmon,  but  it  was  a  closed  episode,  she  would  wire  noth- 
ing; her  second,  that  this  would  hardly  be  treating  him 
with  the  courtesy  he  deserved,  she  would  wire  "no." 
And  then  she  fell  to  musing. 

"Why  should  it  not  be  "Yes"  instead?  He  was  really 
very  desirable.  She  had  been  a  poor  girl  all  her  life, 
holding  her  place  in  society  because  of  her  family — of  the 
old  French  blood  on  which  the  city  prided  itself — and 


THE  LEADER  299 

still  more,  perhaps,  because  of  her  social  talents;  for  she 
knew  well  if  she  had  not  made  herself  a  desirable  dinner 
guest  from  a  pretty  little  talent  she  had  for  lively 
dinner  chatter,  society  would  long  ago  have  forgotten  all 
about  her  family;  since  she  could  very  seldom  indeed 
return  the  dinners  and  never  with  the  state  and  ceremony 
of  those  where  she  was  so  often  a  welcome  guest. 

Moreover,  to  be  always  daintily  dressed,  what  pinching 
economies  had  she  not  known!  What  days  of  tiresome 
sewing  and  cutting  and  planning!  And  then  the  humili- 
ations she  had  had  to  submit  to  in  accepting  the  cast-off 
garments  of  her  friends,  carelessly  offered,  and  which  she 
must  spend  days  in  remodelling  so  that  they  might  be 
thoroughly  disguised.  She  had  often  taken  pleasure  in 
the  skill  with  which  she  had  accomplished  all  this,  mak- 
ing her  little  income  go  a  long  way  and  evolving  such 
visions  in  dress  as  were  the  admiration  and  envy  of  her 
richer  friends,  but  now  it  sent  a  thrill  through  her  that 
she  had  only  to  wire  yes  and  the  days  of  small  economies 
were  over  forever. 

And  then  Julie's  better  nature  stirred  through  her 
musings.  For  she  had  a  better  nature  and  some  woman- 
ly little  principles  with  which  some  of  her  friends  would 
hardly  have  credited  her.  This  flirtation  with  Seton  had 
been  carelessly  entered  into;  it  had  amused  her  to  see  her 
power  with  the  man  who  notoriously  avoided  women. 
But  in  her  week's  acquaintance  she  had  been  discovering 
in  him  some  qualities  that  commanded  her  involuntary 
admiration,  and  it  added  greatly  to  the  shock  she  had  felt 
at  his  bold  kiss  that  it  was  so  at  variance  with  the  ideal 


300  THE  LEADER 

she  had  been  unconsciously  forming  of  him.  Now  she 
thought  she  understood  his  note;  he  had  been  betrayed 
into  that  kiss  (she  knew  she  had  done  her  best  to  tempt 
him)  and  he  was  going  to  make  the  amende  honorable. 
Well,  it  was  the  act  of  a  preux  chevalier,  but  she  was  not 
going  to  let  him  make  such  a  sacrifice  of  himself  for  a 
superfine  sense  of  honor. 

And  then  a  curious  thing  happened.  She  sat  down  to 
her  desk  to  write  the  telegram  with  its  simple  message 
"No,"  when  suddenly  she  felt  once  more  his  strong  arms 
around  her  and  his  kiss  on  her  lips,  and  instead  of  the 
anger  she  had  felt  in  the  rose  garden  her  pulses  were 
throbbing  and  her  cheeks  were  glowing  with  a  far  differ- 
ent sensation. 

She  laid  down  her  pen  and  buried  her  hot  face  in  her 
hands  for  a  moment.  When  she  lifted  her  head  her  eyes 
were  shining. 

"Oh  well,"  she  murmured,  "it  will  be  to-morrow  night 
before  he  reaches  Columbus — the  telegram  can  wait." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

GOD  BLESS   PEGGY  ! 

It  was  an  interminable  day  to  Dalton  rolling  steadily 
over  the  boundless  prairies  of  Indiana  and  Illinois;  miles 
of  tasselled  corn  standing  motionless  in  the  breathless 
midsummer  air;  farm  houses  with  their  outbuildings 
flashing  by  only  to  be  succeeded  by  more  miles  of  the 
shining  scimitars  of  cool  green  corn. 

Seton  had  been  in  a  state  of  excitement  very  unusual 
with  him.  Dalton  did  not  know  what  caused  it,  but 
neither  did  he  trouble  himself  to  wonder  at  it  much;  his 
own  thoughts  were  too  engrossing.  If  he  thought  of  it 
at  all  he  was  rather  glad  of  it,  for  Seton's  excitement 
found  vent  in  ways  that  left  Dalton  quite  undisturbed. 
First,  he  wrote  to  some  one  (Dalton  almost  thought  he 
could  guess  to  whom),  a  letter  of  prodigious  length.  The 
rest  of  the  day  he  spent  in  striding  up  and  down  the  li- 
brary car,  where  they  were  sitting,  with  shining  eyes  and 
smoking  as  if  his  life  depended  upon  the  number  of  cigars 
he  could  get  through  with  during  the  day;  or  in  loud  and 
excited  discussions  with  the  other  men  in  the  car. 

Dalton  himself  was,  of  course,  well  known,  and  equally, 
of  course,  every  man  in  the  car  was  eager  to  have  a  little 
talk  with  him  on  the  political  situation.  He  had  been 
complaisant  at  first,  but  finding  that  his  whole  day  was 
likely  to  be  absorbed  in  this  fashion,  he  excused  himself 
finally  and  asked  Frank  to  excuse  him  to  all  newcomers 
by  saying  he  had  some  problems  to  work  out  and  he 


302  THE  LEADER 

would  have  to  ask  to  be  undisturbed  for  a  while. 

He  knew  they  would  take  it  for  granted  that  these 
were  political  problems;  and  some  of  them  were.  But 
it  did  not  take  him  long  to  dispose  of  these.  He  was 
quite  sure  he  was  being  summoned  to  secure  his  active 
services  for  the  campaign  and  to  help  outline  a  plan  of 
action.  He  knew,  too,  why  the  leaders  were  in  such  a 
hurry.  The  convention  was  hardly  closed  and  a  little 
breathing  space  might  have  been  expected  before  begin- 
ning the  arduous  work  of  the  campaign.  But  the  party 
papers  in  Dalton's  section  of  the  country  were  already 
full  of  the  mutterings  of  discontent  with  the  party  nom- 
inee and  threats,  not  always  covert,  of  bolting  to  the 
other  party  or  of  forming  a  new  one  with  Dalton  as  their 
leader. 

Dalton  himself  was  little  moved  by  these  mutterings 
of  a  distant  storm;  he  was  quite  sure  it  would  blow  over, 
and  he  would  have  liked  the  week  of  absolute  rest  from 
politics  that  a  visit  at  Kent  Hall  had  promised  him.  If 
it  had  not  been  for  the  sudden  and  severe  strain  in  his 
relations  with  Peyton  (and -he  was  not  sure  but  with 
Margaret  also),  he  would  have  wired  the  Chairman  that 
he  needed  rest  and  could  not  come.  He  would  much 
rather  not  have  gone;  he  had  not  fully  decided  upon  his 
line  of  action,  and  his  faculties  were  still  somewhat  be- 
numbed from  the  effects  of  over-work  at  the  convention. 
There  was  only  one  thing  that  he  was  quite  sure  of — that 
he  would  not  antagonize  Berkeley;  but  whether  he  would 
agree  to  work  for  him,  depended  largely  upon  the  atti- 
tude of  the  leaders  towards  him.  He  would  have  liked 


THE  LEADER  303 

also  to  feel  himself  mentally  more  fit,  for  no  doubt  Jim 
Burton  would  be  of  the  council  and  he  needed  his  facul- 
ties at  their  best  to  cope  with  Jim  Burton. 

Dalton  had  taken  his  seat  in  one  of  the  comfortable 
revolving  chairs  at  the  rear  of  the  car,  where,  with  his 
back  to  the  others,  and  his  eyes  on  the  endless  miles  of 
shining  corn  slipping  by,  he  could  give  himself  up  to  un- 
disturbed meditation.  It  had  not  taken  him  long  to 
dispose  of  his  political  problems,  but  he  was  still  at  sea 
as  to  what  his  course  toward  Margaret  would  be.  Until 
the  very  moment  of  his  leaving  Kentwick  he  had  not 
given  up  hope  of  receiving  some  word  from  her  that 
would  assure  him  that  in  spite  of  Peyton's  quarrel  with 
him  she  was  herself  unchanged.  He  had  excused  her 
silence  when  he  said  good-bye  to  her,  for  he  knew  that 
she  must  have  been  dazed  by  the  whole  dreadful  scene, 
and  before  Peyton  it  would,  perhaps,  have  been  difficult 
to  say  what  she  desired.  But  no  word  had  come,  and 
now  he  was  in  doubt  as  to  whether  after  all  she  might  not 
excuse  her  brother  and  yield  to  his  influence,  which  Dal- 
ton knew  would  be  used  against  him. 

This  was  a  problem  that  occupied  his  day  fully;  for 
no  sooner  had  he,  after  an  almost  endless  chain  of  argu- 
ments, arrived  at  the  determination  to  write  Margaret 
setting  his  case  fully  before  her  and  asking  for  a  definite 
answer  from  her,  but  his  brain  would  take  a  sudden 
whirl  and  begin  upon  an  equally  endless  chain 
the  conclusion  of  which  would  be  that  his  only 
honorable  and  self-respecting  course  was  to  wait  for 
some  word  of  explanation  or  apology  from  Margaret. 


304  THE  LEADER 

Into  this  see-saw  of  reasoning  one  argument  always 
entered  with  equal  weight  on  either  side.  Did  it  seem 
to  him  that  he  ought  to  write  to  Margaret  and  declare 
himself  fully,  then  he  was  absolutely  certain  that  her 
engagement  to  Hugh  was  but  a  figment  of  Peyton's 
brain  fabricated  for  Peyton's  base  purposes.  Did  he 
decide  he  must  wait  for  a  letter  from  Margaret,  the  argu- 
ment that  weighed  most  with  him  was  his  feeling  of  al- 
most absolute  certainty  that  she  was  engaged  to  Hugh. 
He  had  no  rest  from  this  ceaseless  swing  of  the  pendulum, 
and  he  began  to  feel  as  the  captive  beast  of  the  forest 
must  feel  that  paces  restlessly  up  his  narrow  cage  only 
to  turn  and  pace  as  restlessly  down  again — hour  after 
hour  through  the  long,  weary  day. 

His  reprieves  had  come  when  he  went  to  the  dining 
car.  There  he  resolutely  threw  aside  his  doubts  and  be- 
came once  more  the  genial  travelling  companion  and 
sympathetic  friend.  The  men  who  had  left  him  undis- 
turbed in  the  library  car  felt  at  liberty  to  gather  round 
his  table  now,  as  they  finished  their  own  dinners,  and  he 
became  once  more  the  center  of  animated  discussion,  or 
perhaps  more  truly  the  object  of  respectful  attention, 
since  it  was  to  listen  to  him  rather  than  to  talk  with  him 
that  men  gathered  around  him. 

But  at  the  evening  meal,  Frank  and  he  were  almost 
alone;  for  they  had  gone  into  the  dining  car  late.  They 
had  a  table  to  themselves,  and  there  was  no  one  else  in 
the  car  but  a  conductor  at  one  table  and  a  lady  with  her 
child  at  another. 

Frank's  excitement  had  been  increasing  as  the  day 


THE  LEADER  305 

wore  on,  that  was  quite  evident  to  John,  and  he  now 
turned  to  the  conductor  across  the  aisle  from  them  and 
inquired  if  he  could  tell  him  how  long  before  they  would 
reach  Columbus. 

"We'll  be  there  in  ten  minutes,"  said  the  conductor, 
glancing  at  his  watch. 

"Ten  minutes!"  ejaculated  Frank,  then  he  pulled  out 
his  watch  also  and  consulted  it  with  a  startled  air. 

For  the  next  ten  minutes  he  fidgeted;  there  was  no 
other  word  to  express  it,  Dalton  thought,  as  he  wondered 
what  there  was  in  Columbus  that  could  have  such  an 
effect  on  Frank.  He  would  not  ask  him,  since  Frank 
had  not  volunteered  any  explanation  of  his  excitement, 
but  they  were  sitting  on  the  side  of  the  car  next  the 
station  and  as  they  drew  into  it,  Frank  excused  himself 
nervously,  and  Dalton  did  not  consider  it  prying  to 
glance  out  of  his  window  and  follow  his  retreating  figure, 
taking  the  long  flight  of  steps  that  leads  up  to  the  station 
offices  three  at  a  time. 

He  must  have  met  a  messenger  boy  at  the  top  of  the 
flight,  for  he  returned  almost  immediately,  coming  down 
the  steps  as  slowly  as  he  had  gone  up  them  rapidly,  his 
eyes  intent  on  a  telegram  he  held  in  his  hand. 

It  looked  like  a  mystery  to  John.  Why  had  not 
Frank  told  him  he  was  expecting  a  telegram  at  Columbus? 
It  was  not  his  way  to  make  a  secret  of  anything  with  him 
— was  his  friend  becoming  alienated  also?  Then  he  re- 
membered that  he  had  not  been  confiding  to  Frank  all 
the  hopes  and  doubts  that  had  been  engrossing  him  for 
the  last  few  days,  and  if  Frank  had  some  interesting  little 


306  THE  LEADER 

affair  of  his  own  on  his  hands  (John  could  not  believe 
that  it  could  for  a  moment  compare  in  importance  with 
his),  why  should  he  quarrel  with  him? 

So  he  endeavored  not  to  notice  Seton's  embarrassed 
air  as  he  took  his  seat  again  at  the  table. 

"Did  you  get  what  you  wanted,  Frank?"  he  asked  by 
way  of  appearing  to  suspect  nothing,  and  saying  the 
thing  the  occasion  would  seem  to  demand. 

"Yes  and  no,"  answered  Frank  slowly.  Then  he 
hesitated  as  if  intending  to  say  something  more,  but  the 
conductor  of  the  car  came  up  at  that  moment  and  in- 
formed them  that  the  diner  was  about  to  be  taken  up 
into  the  yards  and  left  there,  and  they  had  better  get 
back  into  their  own  car. 

"Come  out  on  the  observation  platform,  John,  and  I'll 
tell  you  all  about  it,"  said  Frank,  as  they  entered  the 
library  car,  deserted  for  the  moment,  but  blazing  with 
electric  lights  under  whose  glare  Seton  felt  sure  he  could 
never  tell  his  story. 

Out  on  the  broad  platform,  railed  in  and  seated  with 
comfortable  chairs  for  observation,  they  lighted  their 
cigars.  They  were  in  semi-darkness,  and  Frank  care- 
fully turned  his  back  to  the  squares  of  light  that  came 
through  the  windows  of  the  car,  and  as  they  rolled  up 
into  the  dark  yards  and  were  switched  forward  and  back 
in  that  apparently  aimless  fashion  peculiar  to  switching 
engines,  he  began: 

"I've  proposed  to  Miss  Delauney,  John."  He  plunged 
in  abruptly,  for  he  could  think  of  no  circumlocution 
equal  to  the  subject. 


THE  LEADER  307 

"What!  You!  Proposed!!"  exclaimed  Dalton,  startled 
out  of  all  sense  of  how  unflattering  his  italics  might 
sound  to  Frank,  for  this  was  far  beyond  anything  lie  had 
suspected. 

"Yes,"  replied  Frank  briefly. 

John  recovered  himself  with  an  effort. 

"Well?  She  has  accepted  you,  I  take  it?  You  have 
my  hearty  congratulations,  old  fellow!" 

"Don't  be  in  a  hurry,"  said  Frank,  blushing  crimson, 
but  thankful  that  John  could  not  see  him,  since  his  back 
was  to  the  light,  "I  haven't  got  my  answer  yet." 

"Oh!"  said  John. 

"No,"  said  Frank,  growing  every  moment  more  em- 
barrassed, but  determined  to  go  through  with  it. 

"You  see,  this  is  the  way.  I  kind  o'  started  it  there  at 
Kentwick,  but  our  visit  was  cut  a  little  short,  you  know, 
and  I  didn't  have  time  to  finish  it;  so  I  asked  her  to  wire 
'yes  or  no'  to  Columbus." 

"Oh?"  said  John  again. 

"Yes,"  replied  Frank  again. 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  what  was  going  on?  I  would 
never  have  let  you  come  away  with  me  for  a  minute  if  I 
had  dreamed  there  was  anything  serious  between  you 
and  Miss  Delauney." 

John's  regret  was  mingled  with  irritation  at  Frank 
that  he  should  have  allowed  his  affairs  to  be  so  unneces- 
sarily bungled,  and  both  showed  in  his  voice. 

"Oh  don't  feel  bad  about  that,"  said  Frank.  "In 
fact  I  prefer  it  this  way.  Perhaps  you  don't  know  it, 
old  fellow,  but  proposing  to  a  girl  face  to  face  is  a  very 


308  THE  LEADER 

difficult  matter." 

"No,  I  have  had  no  experience,"  said  John  grimly. 
And  then  he  added  with  intense  interest: 

"But  what  was  her  answer?  I  suppose  you  received 
her  telegram?" 

"Yes,"  said  Frank. 

"Well,  what  did  it  say?" 

"It  said,  'Have  sent  letter  to  Holland  House.'"  And 
then  he  added,  after  a  scarcely  perceptible  pause — 
"What  would  you  make  of  that,  John?" 

John  took  his  cigar  out  of  his  mouth,  threw  back  his 
head  and  sent  two  or  three  rings  of  smoke  whirling  up 
into  the  cool  damp  evening  air  of  the  yards,  so  grateful 
after  the  stuffy  car,  while  he  thought. 

"Well,"  he  said  slowly,  as  the  result  of  his  deliberations, 
"I  shouldn't  call  it  discouraging.  But  was  that  all  she 
said?  Didn't  she  give  you  the  slightest  clue  as  to  what 
her  answer  would  be?" 

"There  was  one  thing,  John,"  said  Frank  diffidently. 
"I'm  not  sure  it  meant  anything,  but  it  seemed  to  me  it 
might." 

"Well,  what  was  it?"  asked  John,  encouragingly,  as 
Frank  still  hesitated. 

"The  telegram  was  signed  'Julie'" — apparently  the 
act  of  articulation  was  growing  more  difficult  for  Frank 
every  moment— "You  know  I  have  never  called  her 
anything  but  Miss  Delauney;  shouldn't  you  think  that 
was  a  bit  encouraging?" 

"Why,  it's  the  whole  thing!"  exclaimed  John  enthu- 
siastically. "It's  a  dead  give-away!  No,  I  don't  think 


THE  LEADER  309 

its  too  soon  for  congratulations;  here  they  are,  old  man!" 
and  John  seized  Frank's  hand  in  an  iron  grip. 

"Oh  wait  a  bit,  won't  you?"  demurred  Frank  sheep- 
ishly, but  evidently  well  pleased,  "Wait  till  I  get  my 
letter!" 

They  sat  out  on  the  observation  platform  long  after 
they  had  been  switched  back  to  the  station,  and  the  train 
had  rolled  out  of  the  city  and  was  speeding  away  through 
the  night  over  the  green  fields  and  between  the  wooded 
hills  of  Ohio  toward  the  rugged  mountains  of  Pennsyl- 
vania. They  talked  it  all  over  seriously.  It  seemed  to 
both  of  them  a  strange  and  wonderful  thing  that  after  all 
these  years  one  of  them  should  be  going  to  marry,  and 
they  spoke  of  it  diffidently  and  with  the  reverence  of 
men  unspoiled  by  the  world  and  still  cherishing  the  ideals 
of  their  youth.  John  tried  to  say  every  pleasant  thing 
he  could  think  of  about  Julie,  but  he  had  really  noticed 
her  so  little — having  been  always,  when  she  was  present, 
absorbed  in  Margaret — that  he  had  not  much  to  say. 
She  seemed  to  him  as  Frank  had  once  expressed  it,  "a 
nice  child,"  but  no  doubt  Frank  had  found  somethnig 
more  in  her  than  that,  something  that  he,  at  least, 
thought  quite  worthy  of  his  love. 

The  fact  that  she  was  Margaret's  friend  seemed  to 
John  sufficient  guaranty  of  her  worth,  and  then  with  the 
selfishness  that  is  deep  in  every  man's  heart,  no  matter 
how  well  he  may  keep  it  out  of  even  his  own  sight,  he  won- 
dered how  this  marriage  was  going  to  affect  him.  Was 
it  going  to  leave  him  bereft  of  his  friend?  And  would 
the  rest  of  his  life  be  lonely  with  a  loneliness  he  had  never 


310  THE  LEADER 

yet  dreamed  of,  when  Frank  had  been  always  at  his  beck 
and  call?  He  had  heard  that  marriage  has  more  or  less 
the  effect  of  estranging  friends — was  losing  Frank  the 
last  blow  fate  had  kept  in  reserve  for  him? 

John  did  not  let  his  sense  of  loneliness  appear  to  Seton 
as  they  talked  on,  recalling  the  incidents  of  their  brief 
acquaintance  with  the  Kentwick  people,  or  looking  for- 
ward to  what  the  future  might  have  in  store  for  them — 
both  past  and  future  looking  to  John  in  his  present  state 
of  despondency  as  dim  and  ghostlike  as  the  shadowy 
forms  of  the  night  gliding  by  them  on  either  side  of  the 
rushing  train. 

Frank  rose  at  last  and  said  that  he  must  write  a  little 
note  to  Miss  Delauney — he  hesitated  on  the  name  and 
John  was  sure  he  wanted  to  say  "Julie"  but  did  not  dare 
— to  tell  her  that  he  had  received  her  telegram. 

"I'll  give  it  to  the  porter,"  he  said,  "to  mail  at  Pitts- 
burg,  and  then  I'm  going  to  turn  in." 

"All  right,"  answered  John,  "I'll  sit  here  while  you 
write  it." 

He  watched  Frank  through  the  window  sit  down  at 
the  desk,  draw  a  sheet  of  paper  towards  him  and  then 
hold  his  pen  suspended  so  long  that  John  turned  away, 
half  embarrassed  for  his  friend  and  feeling  that  he  had 
unintentionally  been  spying. 

"He  doesn't  know  how  to  begin  it,"  he  said  to  himself 
with  his  whimsical  smile,  and  then  he  gave  himself  up  to 
his  own  musings,  where  Frank's  affairs  were  soon  for- 
gotten. 

Frank  came  out  after  a  while  with  his  note  finished. 


THE  LEADER  311 

"Don't  wait  for  me,"  said  John,  "I'm  not  sleepy — 
I'll  sit  out  here  a  while  longer  and  keep  cool." 

A  sudden  compunction  stirred  Frank.  In  his  own 
happiness — or  sometimes  he  was  not  sure  whether  it  was 
happiness  or  not,  but  at  least  in  his  excitement,  he  had 
forgotten  how  all  this  might  affect  his  friend. 

"John,"  he  said  quickly,  "you're  sure  you  don't  mind? 
It  won't  make  any  difference  in  our  friendship,  will  it? 
You  won't  let  it,  John?  And  you're  not  sorry,  are  you?" 

Frank  spoke  in  a  tone  of  alarm,  as  of  one  asking  inform- 
ation about  some  strange  new  state,  of  which  he  was 
wholly  ignorant  and  half  afraid. 

"Sorry!"  said  John  earnestly,  "I'm  glad  for  you, 
Frank,  and  I  shall  expect  you  to  share  some  of  your  hap- 
piness with  your  old  bachelor  friend.  It  need  not  make 
any  difference  in  our  friendship,  and  I  don't  believe  it 
will." 

Then  he  reached  up  to  Frank  where  he  stood  beside 
him  and  grasped  his  hand  warmly. 

"Good-night!  Go  to  bed  and  dream  of  her.  I've 
my  thoughts  for  company,  and  I  shall  sit  up  a  while. 
And  tell  that  porter,  please,  not  to  sell  my  berth  to  any- 
one else  if  I  should  happen  to  be  late  coming  in." 

John  sat  on  the  platform  smoking  fitfully  and  watch- 
ing the  stars  in  their  constellations  whirl  by  as  they 
wound  among  the  hills,  until  one  by  one  the  passengers 
had  deserted  the  library  car  and  the  porter  had  turned 
down  the  lights.  Still  he  stayed  on  alone  in  the  dark 
with  his  thoughts,  until,  rising  at  last,  he  threw  away  his 
cigar  and  turned  to  go  back  to  his  sleeper. 


312  THE  LEADER 

"God  bless  him!"  he  said  aloud  to  the  stars.  "He's  a 
dear  old  fellow  and  he's  been  a  faithful  friend." 

And  then  he  added  reverently,  as  if  it  were  indeed  a 
prayer : 

"And  God  bless  Peggy!" 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE   MAN   FROM  THE   WEST. 

Dalton's  conference  with  the  party  leaders  resulted  as 
might  have  been  expected.  Jim  Burton  would  not  have 
allowed  him  to  leave  New  York  without  getting  his 
pledge  to  go  on  the  stump  and  he  began  by  using  the 
weapon  he  thought  most  powerful:  flattery  of  Daiton 
concerning  his  immense  personal  influence.  But  he 
soon  saw  that  Daiton  was  not  vulnerable  on  the  side  of 
his  vanity,  and  he  changed  his  tactics.  It  was  his  appeal 
to  his  love  for  the  party  that  brought  him  to  terms,  and 
before  he  started  home,  Daiton  had  promised  to  swing 
into  line  the  States  that  were  loyal  to  him. 

"You  take  care  of  New  York,"  he  had  said  to  Burton, 
"and  I  will  look  out  for  my  States." 

"Oh,  New  York  will  be  all  right,"  answered  Burton. 
"Our  man  is  solid  with  his  own  State." 

Nothing  could  have  been  better  for  Daiton  than  this 
plunge  into  arduous  work.  There  were  conferences  to 
be  called  at  once  in  his  own  State  and  in  the  States  that 
had  voted  with  him  at  the  convention,  and  a  program  of 
speeches  and  speakers  laid  out  for  the  next  four  months. 
When  Daiton  glanced  at  his  own  particular  program 
arranged  for  him  by  the  committee  to  whom  he  had  en- 
trusted it,  he  pursed  his  lips  for  a  long  whistle.  He  was 
down  for  every  town  of  any  size  in  the  seven  States  in- 
cluded in  his  immediate  following,  and  often  it  was  not 


314  THE  LEADER 

one  speech  a  day,  but  three  that  had  been  arranged  for. 
He  was  inclined  to  remonstrate  at  first.  They  had 
given  him  the  labors  of  Hercules — had  they  forgotten  he 
was  flesh  and  blood?  Certainly  it  was  a  tribute 
to  his  tremendous  powers  and  a  recognition  of  his  splen- 
did vitality.  John  himself,  feeling  old  and  broken  since 
the  convention,  thought  they  had  made  a  mistake,  but 
he  had  a  reckless  feeling  also,  that  it  was  a  good  way  to 
make  an  end  of  a  career  that  had  spelled  only  failure, 
and  if  hard  work  could  kill  then  he  should  literally  die  in 
the  harness. 

But  as  the  weeks  went  on,  John  showed  no  symptoms 
of  dying.  Eating  and  sleeping  on  trains,  almost  his  only 
rest  was  in  the  hours  spent  in  moving  from  one  appoint- 
ment to  another,  yet  he  grew  steadily  stronger,  the  old 
fire  returned  in  full  measure  and  he  felt  once  more  the 
amazing  vigor  of  his  youth. 

He  had  need  of  all  his  wonderful  powers,  for  wherever 
he  went  he  met  a  stubbornness  that  appalled  him.  "We 
don't  want  that  Easterner  and  his  trusts — we  want  you," 
was  the  universal  cry  he  encountered,  and  it  took  all  the 
ingenuity,  all  the  eloquence  and  all  the  personal  magnet- 
ism with  which  he  was  so  richly  endowed,  to  convert  that 
cry  into  the  nobler  one — "We'll  stand  by  our  party  and 
the  platform." 

"I'm  for  my  party  and  my  party's  nominee,  and  the 
man  who  is  my  political  friend  will  vote  with  me,"  he 
often  wound  up  after  an  hour  of  clear  logic  and  thrilling 
oratory,  and  it  was  that  personal  note  that  most  often 
carried  the  day,  for  seldom  did  he  leave  the  stand  till  his 


THE  LEADER  315 

audience,  as  one  man,  had  pledged  themselves  to  vote  as 
he  voted. 

Through  these  strenuous  weeks,  Margaret  was  not  for- 
gotten. In  moments  of  relaxing,  on  some  swiftly  mov- 
ing train  when  Seton,  who  was  his  faithful  companion 
through  the  whole  campaign,  thought  him  asleep,  he 
was  with  closed  eyes  letting  himself  recall  the  vision  of 
her  loveliness.  It  was  a  luxury  that  he  never  permitted 
himself  for  more  than  a  few  moments  at  a  time.  He  had 
set  away  her  memory  in  a  place  apart  as  something 
sacred  from  which  he  would  rarely  withdraw  the  veil  and 
then  only  for  a  moment,  and  he  resolutely  turned  to 
sterner  thoughts  after  one  brief  glimpse. 

It  was  well  for  him  that  he  had  much  stern  thinking  to 
do  that  allowed  him  little  time  for  dreams  even  if  he  had 
desired  it,  and  well  too  that  the  fatigues  of  his  work  were 
so  great  that  often  in  the  very  act  of  yielding  to  the 
luxury  of  dreams,  he  sank  into  deep  and  dreamless 
slumber.  He  had  had  no  word  from  Beauvoir  in  all  this 
time,  but  there  was  no  bitterness  in  his  heart  toward 
Margaret  on  that  account,  for  he  had  no  doubt  that  Pey- 
ton was  responsible  for  her  having  sent  him  no  message 
of  sympathy  or  encouragement. 

But  there  he  was  wrong.  When  Peyton  had  learned — 
which  was  not  for  several  days — of  the  failure  of  his  note 
to  reach  Dalton,  he  had  said  at  once — "I  will  write  an- 
other and  send  it  to  his  home  address."  But  it  was 
Margaret  who  prevented  it. 

"No,"  she  demurred,  "You  have  shown  me  your  good 
will,  and  I  am  satisfied.  What  does  it  matter,  after  all, 


316  THE  LEADER 

what  Mr.  Dalton  thinks  of  us?  It  is  not  likely  we  will 
ever  see  him  again." 

Peyton,  who  was  now  honestly  ashamed  of  his  treat- 
ment of  Dalton,  would  have  liked  to  insist,  but  Margaret 
was  firm. 

"No,"  she  repeated,  "I  really  prefer  you  should  not, 
Peyton."  And  so  he  let  it  drop,  secretly  a  little  glad  that 
through  no  fault  of  his  own  there  would  be  no  chance  for 
taking  up  again  the  broken  threads  of  this  acquaintance 
that  had  proved  so  disastrous  to  his  hopes  for  Margaret. 
Secretly  hoping,  also,  that  with  Dalton  entirely  out  of 
her  life,  Margaret  might  turn  again  to  Hugh. 

Margaret  hardly  knew  why  she  had  been  so  insistent 
that  Peyton  should  not  write  Dalton.  Certainly  she 
still  cringed  and  flushed  with  shame  as  she  thought  of 
how  he  must  regard  her,  believing  in  her  engagement  to 
Hugh.  But  she  had  so  set  her  heart  on  his  receiving 
Peyton's  note  immediately,  putting  her  right  in  his  eyes 
at  once  and,  she  hoped,  re-establishing  the  friendly  rela- 
tions, that  the  miscarriage  of  the  note  came  as  a  crushing 
blow.  It  seemed  to  her  one  of  those  decrees  of  fate  not 
to  be  struggled  against,  and  she  accepted  it  with  dull 
apathy,  very  unlike  the  usual  imperious  energy  with 
which  she  was  wont  to  surmount  all  obstacles  to  her  will. 

Her  apathy  also  was  tinged  with  a  little  bitterness 
toward  Dalton.  He  had  left  Kentwick  with  no  message 
of  farewell1  for  her,  merely  including  her  in  his  Beauvoir 
friends  and  that  only  for  the  sake  of  appearances.  It 
would  have  been  very  easy  for  him  to  write  her  a  note 
expressive  of  his  sympathy  for  her  in  the  trying  scene 


THE  LEADER  317 

through  which  they  had  both  passed,  and,  if  he  desired, 
writing  the  words  that  the  arrival  of  Peyton  had  inter- 
rupted. He  could  not  think  that  a  note  to  her  would  be 
intercepted;  he  could  not  hold  Peyton's  sense  of  honor  so 
low  as  to  dream  he  would  place  an  espionage  on  her  mail; 
and  when  day  after  day  passed  and  no  word  from  him 
that  she  had  thought  at  first  so  certainly  would  come,  she 
believed  it  could  only  be  accounted  for  by  one  of  two 
reasons :  either  Dal  ton  included  her  in  his  resentment  of 
the  insults  offered  him  in  her  presence,  or  he  had  never 
cared  for  her  as  she  had  allowed  herself  to  suppose  he  did, 
and  had  now  quite  forgotten  her.  The  second  of  these 
alternatives  was  very  bitter  to  her  self-esteem,  but  for 
that  very  reason,  perhaps,  she  morbidly  clung  to  it  as 
the  true  solution  of  his  silence. 

It  would  have  been  hard  to  shut  him  from  her  thoughts 
if  she  had  tried,  for  every  paper  she  picked  up  chronicled 
his  doings,  and  many  of  them,  of  his  party  or  not,  de- 
voted an  editorial  column  to  the  tremendous  capacity 
for  work  of  the  man  and  the  wonderful  influence  he  still 
held  in  the  party  that  had  tried  to  discredit  him;  and  in 
spite  of  her  bitterness  toward  him,  Margaret  could  not 
read  such  sentences  without  tingling  with  pride. 

The  second  Tuesday  of  November  found  Dalton  and 
Seton  in  New  York.  Dalton's  work  was  over.  There 
was  no  doubt  his  States  would  do  their  duty  and  there- 
fore no  reason  why  he  should  not  accept  an  urgent  invi- 
tation from  some  of  his  New  York  friends  to  come  on 


318  THE  LEADER 

and  watch  the  returns  at  the  party  headquarters.  A 
large  faction  in  New  York  had  always  been  for  Dalton, 
and  though  they  had  submitted  gracefully  to  the  party's 
edict  and  worked  faithfully  for  Berkeley,  they  werein  heart 
still  loyally  devoted  to  Dalton  and  liked  to  seize  every 
opportunity  to  show  him  their  friendliness. 

A  room  in  one  of  the  great  Fifth  Avenue  hotels  bore 
above  its  door  the  inscription,  "Headquarters,"  and  in 
and  out  of  this  room  poured  the  throng  overflowing  into 
the  corridors  and  into  the  caf6  where,  as  the  night  went 
on,  cocktails  and  highballs  were  in  greater  demand  in 
proportion  as  the  returns  became  less  and  less  encour- 
aging. 

The  headquarters  buzzed  and  clicked  with  the  sound 
of  the  telegraph  machines,  and  as  the  operators,  every 
few  moments,  posted  up  returns  from  some  new  county 
or  State,  it  was  greeted  with  cheers  if  it  promised  the 
least  encouragement  for  Berkeley,  or  with  profound 
silence,  if  his  opponent  was  in  the  lead. 

It  had  been  a  tremendous  confusion  at  first  of  enthu- 
siasm and  excitement.  The  campaign  had  been  an  ex- 
tremely quiet  one  with  no  indications  as  to  results,  but 
that  very  fact  had  made  most  of  the  party  confident  that 
at  last  they  were  to  have  their  turn  in  administering  the 
government.  They  were  the  more  certain  of  it,  because 
the  opposing  candidate  during  those  few  months  had 
made  several  mistakes  that  had  been  severely  criticized 
by  the  country,  while  their  own  had  maintained  his  dis- 
creet silence  almost  unbroken  to  the  end. 

Their  first  enlightenment  had  come  when  the  returns 


THE  LEADER  319 

from  the  counties  in  Berkeley's  own  state  began  to  ar- 
rive. The  betting — which  is  the  straw  that  shows  the 
current  of  opinion — had  been  heavy  on  this.  Those  of 
his  friends  who  were  not  willing  to  risk  much  money  on 
the  result  of  the  election  at  large,  had  been  eager  to  offer 
big  odds  on  the  result  in  the  state,  and  with  compara- 
tively few  takers.  They  were  jubilantly  on  hand  to 
watch  the  returns,  and  ready  for  their  profit  taking. 

In  a  parlor  sufficiently  remote  from  the  Headquarters 
to  allow  its  turmoil  to  reach  them  only  as  a  subdued 
murmur,  a  dozen  or  twenty  of  the  party  leaders,  at  ease 
on  sofas  or  lounging  chairs, 'and  with  every  appliance  for 
spending  the  night  comfortably,  were  watching  the  re- 
turns with  no  less  eager  eyes  than  the  rank  and  file  had 
shown  in  their  crowded  quarters. 

Jim  Burton  and  the  chairman  of  the  National  Com- 
mittee had  been  the  first  to  arrive,  and  had  taken  their 
places  at  a  broad  table  liberally  supplied  with  writing 
materials,  where  they  had  at  once  set  to  work  figuring 
out  again  as  they  had  figured  it  out  many  times  before, 
the  probable  results.  As  one  after  another  dropped  in, 
these  two  constituted  themselves  hosts  to  bid  them  wel- 
come, and  exchange  hopeful  prophecies  with  the  new 
comers.  A  late  arrival  entered  with  the  air  of  having 
something  of  interest  to  communicate,  and  he  could 
hardly  wait  to  return  the  chairman's  greeting  before  he 
fired  off  his  bomb — 

"Did  you  know  Dalton  is  in  town?" 

Burton,  who  had  not  noticed  the  new  comer,  having 


320  THE  LEADER 

been  engaged  with  others  when  he  came  in,  lifted  his 
head  at  the  sound  of  Dalton's  name. 

"Dal ton!"  exclaimed  the  chairman,  a  quick  frown 
appearing  and  disappearing  between  his  eyes,  "What 
brings  him  here?" 

"Oh,  a  lot  of  the  boys  wired  him  to  come  on  and 
watch  the  returns.  They'll  all  be  up  here  presently,  I 
suppose." 

Evidently  the  new  comer  thought  he  was  the  bearer  of 
pleasant  news,  and  plumed  himself  accordingly.  Every 
one  in  the  room  had  stopped  to  listen  at  the  sound  of 
Dalton's  name,  and  to  three-fourths  of  the  listeners  it 
evidently  was  pleasant  news.  Burton  and  the  chair- 
man exchanged  a  significant  glance,  and  then  Burton 
spoke  for  the  chairman,  and  his  tones  were  of  the  suavest : 

"That's  good  news  you're  bringing  us,  Mr.  Mackey; 
where  did  you  hear  it?" 

But  Mr.  Mackey  had  no  chance  to  reply  for  the  door 
opened  at  that  moment  to  admit  a  party  of  eight  or  ten 
men  and  two  of  the  party  were  Dalton  and  Seton,  and 
nothing  could  have  been  more  cordial  than  the  greetings 
they  both  received  from  Burton  and  the  chairman. 

"You're  as  good  at  hand-shaking  as  the  President, 
Mr.  Dalton,"  said  Burton  pleasantly,  as  the  men  who 
had  crowded  around  Dalton  at  his  entrance  and  seized 
his  hand  each  in  turn,  gave  way  to  let  him  seat  himself 
at  the  table  at  an  invitation  from  the  chairman. 

"Oh,  he's  in  training,"  quickly  interposed  Mackey, 
who  was  a  whole  souled  Irishman;  "he'll  have  to  come 
to  it  yet." 


THE  LEADER  321 

Everybody    laughed,    including    Dalton.    Burton 
smiled  politely,  and  then  asked: 

"What  news  are  you  bringing  us  from  the  West,  Mr. 
Dalton?" 

"Everything's  in  good  shape,  I  think.  I  believe  I 
have  kept  my  part  of  the  bargain,  Mr.  Burton — how 
about  yours?" 

"Oh,  New  York'll  be  all  right,"  answered  Burton  care- 
lessly, but  something  in  his  tones  made  Dalton  think  he 
did  not  believe  what  he  was  saying. 

An  operator  in  a  small  adjoining  room,  in  which  a 
machine  had  been  placed,  entered  to  post  a  bulletin,  and 
the  men  began  to  crowd  around  to  get  a  first  glimpse  of  it. 

"Wait  a  minute,  boys,  please!"  Burton  called  to  them 
authoritatively.  "This  is  the  first  bulletin,  and  before 
any  of  the  returns  come  in,  I  want  to  make  a  statement. 
I  just  want  to  say,  that  no  matter  how  the  election  re- 
sults— whether  Berkeley  wins  or  is  defeated, — I  am  out 
of  politics  from  now  on.  I  wanted  to  say  it  to  you  now 
so  that  in  case  of  defeat  you  wouldn't  think  it  was  be- 
cause I  was  disgruntled  that  I  am  withdrawing.  It  will 
be  just  the  same  however  it  turns.  I  am  too  old — you 
younger  men  have  got  to  take  it  up  now." 

Amid  the  chorus  of  noes  that  followed,  and — "You're 
younger  than  any  of  us,  you'll  never  grow  old,"  from 
Mackey,  Dalton  flashed  a  keen  glance  at  Burton.  It 
was  the  first  suspicion  he  had  had  that  the  election  was 
not  going  to  suit  him.  Burton  must  have  some  data  that 
none  of  the  others  had,  for  Dalton  was  perfectly  sure  that 
Burton  would  have  been  in  no  hurry  to  make  his  an- 


322  THE  LEADER 

nouncement  before  the  returns  came  in  if  he  had  been 
half  way  assured  of  victory.  Things  had  been  going  so 
very  right  in  Dalton's  territory  that  he  had  come  on  to 
New  York  to  join  in  the  jubilations,  thoroughly  con- 
vinced that  victory  was  preening  her  wings  to  perch  on 
their  banner  at  last.  He  had  a  chance  in  the  confusion 
that  followed  Burton's  announcement  to  say  to  Seton 
without  being  overheard: 

"Things  must  be  looking  rather  bad  when  Jim  Burton 
makes  a  speech  like  that.  I  am  afraid  it's  all  up."  And 
Seton  who  had  absolute  confidence  in  Dalton's  powers 
of  seeing  through  a  stone  wall,  thought  instantly  of  a 
little  out-standing  bet  or  two  and  mentally  felt  his 
pockets  so  much  the  lighter  by  their  amounts. 

No  one  else  seemed  to  share  Dalton's  suspicions,  and 
the  first  bulletin  but  added  to  the  hilarity — one  county 
overwhelmingly  for  Berkeley !  But  there  were  not  many 
bulletins  like  the  first  one.  Returns  began  to  come  in 
rapidly,  and  it  was  soon  evident  that  Berkeley  had  not 
carried  his  own  state.  Consternation  showed  in  the 
faces  of  the  men  all  turned  toward  Burton,  and  the 
Irishman  Mackey,  in  a  white  heat,  blurted  out: 

"What  the  devil  does  this  mean,  Burton?" 

"It's  all  that  damned  resolution!"  shouted  Burton, 
losing  control  of  himself  as  he  saw  they  were  holding  him 
responsible.  "How  could  you  expect  an  eastern  state 
to  support  a  platform  like  that?" 

There  was  dead  silence  around  the  room  for  a  moment, 
every  man  glancing  furtively  at  Dalton.  He  would  have 
preferred  not  to  notice  Burton's  speech — he  could  easily 


THE  LEADER  323 

make  allowance  for  this  moment  of  irritation — but  their 
silence  was  imperative;  there  was  no  escaping  it. 

"Wait  a  little,  Mr.  Burton,"  he  said  pleasantly,  "till 
the  returns  come  in  from  my  section.  I  think  you'll  find 
they  fully  balance  New  York,  and  we  wouldn't  have 
carried  one  of  those  states  without  that  resolution." 

The  speech  was  intended  to  be  soothing,  but  it  only 
aroused  Burton  to  greater  fury;  Dal  ton  had  accom- 
plished his  part  of  the  bargain,  Burton  had  failed  to 
carry  out  his — bringing  New  York  into  line.  The 
chairman  saw  that  Burton  was  only  waiting  for  Dalton 
to  finish  what  he  was  saying  to  spring  at  him  with  greater 
venom.  He  forestalled  him.  Hardly  waiting  for  Dalton 
to  utter  his  last  word,  he  exclaimed: 

"Look  at  the  bulletins,  Burton!  There's  encourage- 
ment for  you!"  And  he  accompanied  his  words  with  a 
glance  that  brought  Burton  to  his  senses. 

He  turned  to  consult  the  bulletins  sullenly.  They 
were  coming  in  from  Dalton's  states  each  one  bringing 
glorious  news.  There  was  too  much  genuine  good  feel- 
ing in  Burton  not  to  be  ashamed  of  the  mean  spirit  of 
jealousy  in  which  he  had  been  indulging.  He  turned  to 
Dalton  with  a  hearty  apology  for  his  speech,  and  fol- 
lowed it  up  with  a  few  cordial  words  of  praise  for  the  good 
work  he  had  evidently  been  doing  in  the  West.  His 
apology  was  made  in  a  voice  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by 
everyone  in  the  room.  The  insult  had  been  public,  so 
should  the  reparation  be.  It  restored  harmony  at  once, 
for  there  were  many  present  ready  to  resent  any  slight 
to  their  favorite,  and  the  mutterings  of  a  threatened 


324  THE  LEADER 

storm  had  already  made  themselves  audible. 

The  cheering  news  from  the  West  had  further  pro- 
moted good  feeling  and  for  a  half  hour  jovial  hilarity 
reigned  supreme.  Then  the  tide  turned.  Dalton's 
states  had  all  been  heard  from,  and  there  seemed  to  be 
none  following  their  lead.  City  after  city,  county  after 
county,  state  after  state,  all  rolling  in  tremendous  ma- 
jorities for  the  opposing  candidate,  began  to  seem  after  a 
while  like  something  supernatural — a  great  tidal  wave 
had  swept  the  country  bearing  him  on  its  crest  to  the 
White  House. 

Deep  gloom  began  to  settle  down  upon  the  little  band 
gathered  in  the  comfortable  hotel  parlor.  Some  of  them 
had  met  in  that  same  room  on  many  other  election  nights. 
They  had  known  defeat,  but  never  anything  like  this. 
They  spoke  to  each  other  in  tones  half  hushed  with  awe, 
as  telegram  followed  telegram,  all  bearing  the  same  tale. 
They  were  not  office-seekers,  these  men,  and  there  was 
nothing  sordid  in  their  great  anxiety  and  intense  disap- 
pointment; but  they  were  the  leaders  of  their  party  and 
they  knew  that  on  their  shoulders  would  fall  the  whole 
crushing  weight  of  this  defeat.  The  country  would  hold 
them  responsible.  They  had  honestly  believed  that  they 
had  a  good  show  for  winning  this  time — more  than  a 
fighting  chance— and  if  they  should  lose,  that  they 
would  at  least  have  the  satisfaction  of  giving  the  other 
side  a  close  call.  But  there  was  never  anything  like  this; 
it  was  a  land-slide;  it  was  a  miracle! 

"Looks  a  little  as  if  Berkeley  was  going  to  be  snowed 
under,"  said  Mackey,  with  a  dismal  attempt  at  jocular- 


THE  LEADER  325 

ity,  as  another  of  those  terrible  telegrams  came  in  report- 
ing a  state  on  which  they  had  all  confidently  relied — a 
state  that  had  never  before  failed  them — gone  over  to 
the  enemy. 

"How  do  you  account  for  it,  Burton?"  some  one  asked. 
Burton  groaned  and  shook  his  head: 

"I  don't  account  for  it — what  do  you  think,  Dalton?" 

"I  believe,"  said  Dalton,  speaking  slowly,  "that  the 
politicians  in  both  parties  have  been  equally  at  fault; 
I  believe  the  other  fellows  will  be  as  amazed  as  we  are 
at  the  result.  This  has  been  no  campaign  of  issues — 
it  has  been  a  purely  personal  campaign.  There  is  some- 
thing in  their  candidate  that  has  taken  the  heart  of  the 
people  by  storm.  He  is  alive  and  full  of  generous  im- 
pulses and  if  he  sometimes  blunders  they  like  him  the 
better  for  that — it  shows  them  he's  human.  Berkeley 
has  been  but  a  meaningless  name  to  them.  It  may  have 
been  wisdom  on  the  part  of  the  managers  to  keep  him 
still  while  they  did  the  talking,  but  people  are  not  going 
to  vote  for  a  dim  and  shadowy  ghost  when  they  have  a 
flesh  and  blood  man  always  vividly  in  the  public  eye. 
This  has  been  a  campaign  of  the  people.  The  machine 
on  both  sides  was  never  more  thoroughly  organized  or 
more  admirably  equipped,  but  the  people  have  ignored 
the  machine.  They  have  done  their  own  thinking  and 
their  own  voting." 

There  was  a  little  burst  of  applause  as  Dalton  ceased 
speaking.  There  was  something  in  the  man  that  aroused 
enthusiasm  in  every  man  that  heard  him  even  when  what 
he  was  saying  was  in  itself  far  from  inspiring.  Only  Jim 


326  THE  LEADER 

Burton  and  the  chairman  sat  irresponsive,  with  set 
smiles,  bearing  the  lash  as  well  as  they  could. 

It  was  Dalton's  hour.  For  deeply  as  he  felt  the  party's 
defeat — and  no  man  felt  it  more,  since  no  man  had 
worked  harder  to  secure  victory — he  was  grimly  recog- 
nizing the  nemesis  of  this  hour.  It  was  as  he  had  said, 
the  machine  had  over-reached  itself,  and  he  was  now 
receiving  his  vindication  in  the  presence  of  the  very  men 
who  had  done  their  best  to  discredit  him. 

The  night  wore  on  and  the  gloom  settled  deeper.  Here 
and  there  a  little  ray  pierced  its  solid  folds — they  had 
won  a  govenor  where  they  hardly  dared  to  hope  for  it — 
but  the  presidency  was  irretrievably  lost.  By  one 
o'clock  there  could  no  longer  be  any  doubt  and  Dalton 
and  his  party  rose  to  take  leave. 

"Give  us  a  speech,  Dalton,  before  you  go,"  cried  the 
irrepressible  Mackey.  "Perhaps  the  sound  of  your  voice 
will  comfort  us  a  bit." 

Dalton  smiled  and  looked  at  Burton.  Not  that  Bur- 
ton had  any  especial  authority  here,  but  he  seemed  to 
have  assumed  it  to  himself  and  Dalton  would  not  ignore 
it. 

"Go  on,"  said  Burton  gloomily,  and  the  others  took 
up  the  chorus:  "Dalton!"  "Dalton!" 

But  Dalton  shook  his  head.  He  knew  that  what  he  had 
to  say  would  not  comfort  Burton. 

"The  best  speech  I  can  make  you,  boys,"  he  said  with 
his  whimsical  smile  "is,  go  home  and  go  to  bed,  and  bet- 
ter luck  next  time!" 

He  was  turning  to  go,  but  Mackey  sprang  to  his  feet. 


THE  LEADER  327 

"Wait  a  minute,  please,"  he  cried  to  Dalton,  "I'll 
make  your  speech  for  you.  Boys,  there's  one  thing 
we've  got  to  remember — our  next  candidate  must  not 
be  an  eastern  man,  and  the  man  and  the  party  must 
both  have  some  issue  at  stake ;  some  principles  they  are 
ready  to  make  a  fight  for." 

He  had  stirred  his  little  audience  to  the  quick.  They 
all  knew  what  he  meant  and  as  one  man  they  rose  to 
their  feet  shouting  Dalton's  name  and  gathered  around 
him  tumultuously  to  grasp  his  hand. 

With  the  others  rose  Jim  Burton  and  came  slowly 
around  the  table  to  where  Dalton  was  standing  and  held 
out  his  hand. 

"You're  right  Dalton,"  he  said,  "as  you  always  are. 
We  all  of  us  know  it  now.  And  if  I  were  not  out  of  politics 
I  would  see  to  it  next  time  that  our  nominee  was  a  west- 
ern man  with  an  issue." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

PEYTON  WRITES  A  LETTER. 

Dalton  and  Seton  spent  a  week  in  New  York  after  the 
election  and  boarded  the  midnight  train  for  the  west 
quite  worn  out  with  a  round  of  festivities  given  in  Dai- 
ton's  honor,  which  Seton  had  enjoyed  almost  more  than 
Dalton.  He  liked  to  see  his  friend  sought  after  eagerly 
by  the  great  Fifth  Avenue  houses,  and  it  pleased  him 
with  a  childish  pleasure  to  read  in  the  morning  Herald 
accounts  of  dinners  and  receptions  in  Dalton's  honor. 
He  did  not  fail  to  send  marked  copies  of  these  papers  to 
Julie  and  naturally  Julie  did  not  fail  to  show  them  to 
Margaret,  and  Margaret  did  not  fail  to  call  Peyton's 
attention  to  the  fact  that  Mr.  Dalton  was  honored  guest 
in  the  most  exclusive  houses  in  the  land.  She  found  a 
certain  pleasure  in  this,  the  pleasure  one  feels  in  gritting 
a  sore  tooth  to  make  it  ache,  or  in  magnifying  an  irrepar- 
able loss,  or  perhaps  the  childish  and  ill  natured  pleasure 
of  making  Peyton  feel  still  more  keenly  the  enormity  of 
his  crime  towards  Dalton. 

Peyton  bore  it  very  well,  for  Peyton,  quite  unknown 
to  Margaret,  had  been  doing  his  duty.  It  had  been  a 
long  deferred  duty,  one  that  he  had  known  he  should  have 
discharged  weeks  ago  and  that  had  kept  him  uneasy  and 
not  quite  happy  because  it  had  not  been  discharged. 
But  two  weeks  before  he  had  made  a  sudden  resolve  and 
had  at  once  put  it  into  execution.  He  had  written  to 
Dalton. 

It  had  been  a  miserable  fall  for  Peyton.    Margaret 


THE  LEADER  329 

made  no  display  of  unhappiness  nor  did  she  seem  to 
cherish  resentment  against  her  brother,  but  Peyton  felt 
keenly  that  the  happy  buoyancy  that  had  been  one  of 
her  chief  charms  was  gone;  and  still  more  keenly,  that 
an  invisible  barrier  had  been  erected  between  them — 
nothing  tangible  but  the  old  confidence  had  been  de- 
stroyed. 

Margaret  and  Hugh  were  on  the  best  of  terms.  They 
saw  much  of  each  other,  and  their  intercourse  seemed  to 
be  very  sweet  and  friendly.  For  a  while  Peyton  hoped 
much  from  that,  but  he  could  not  see  that  Margaret's 
spirits  grew  any  the  less  grave  or  her  eyes  any  the  brighter 
as  the  weeks  went  on,  and  he  had  at  last  begun  to  despair. 

It  added  to  his  unhappiness  over  Margaret  that  his 
interest  in  Helen  had  been  growing  deeper  all  these  weeks 
and  the  thought  that  there  should  come  into  his  own  life 
this  new  and  lovely  interest  which  must,  if  it  went  on  to 
its  natural  conclusion,  shut  out  Margaret  from  the  ex- 
clusive possession  of  her  brother  and  compel  her  to  share 
with  another  the  sceptre  that  had  always  been  hers,  or 
worse,  resign  it  to  that  other,  made  him  yearn  with  the 
tenderness  of  a  mother  over  the  vision  of  Margaret, 
lonely  and  alone. 

It  kept  him  silent  before  Helen,  and  perhaps  some- 
times she  wondered  at  his  silence.  On  the  night  of  the 
possum  hunt  he  had  told  her  that  he  believed  Hugh  and 
Margaret  were  engaged,  and  then  he  had  added  jestingly 
(but  they  both  knew  it  was  no  jest),  and  with  the  free- 
dom of  a  friendship  of  nearly  forty  year's  standing: 

"When  Hugh  marries  Margaret  will  you  marry  me  if 


330  THE  LEADER 

I  ask  you?" 

And  she  had  replied: 

"I'll  wait  till  you  ask  before  I  answer." 

He  had  not  asked,  and  added  to  his  generous  sympa- 
thy and  regret  for  Margaret's  evident  unhappiness  was 
a  keen  and  more  selfish  irritation  with  himself  that  in 
meddling  with  Margaret's  affairs  he  had  bungled  his 
own;  and  it  was  partly  with  a  faint  hope  of  setting  his 
own  matters  right  as  well  as  Margaret's  that  he  had 
written  to  Dalton. 

He  had  expected  a  reply  long  before  this,  and  he  began 
now  to  find  himself  watching  the  mails  very  impatiently 
for  a  letter  that  it  seemed  to  him  was  due  him,  if  only 
from  the  barest  courtesy. 

As  Dalton  was  stepping  into  his  carriage  at  the  Holland 
House  to  drive  to  the  station,  a  bell  boy  came  running 
out  with  a  package  of  mail.  He  had  been  out  to  dinner 
and  had  only  stopped  at  the  hotel  for  his  suit  case,  and  it 
was  the  accumulated  mail  of  the  afternoon.  The  hour 
was  late  and  he  was  tired  and  he  knew  it  could  wait,  so 
that  he  did  not  even  glance  at  it  but  threw  it  into  his 
suit  case  to  be  read  the  next  morning. 

He  and  Seton  both  slept  late  and  breakfasted  late,  and 
by  the  time  they  had  finished  breakfast  they  were  wind- 
ing up  the  beautiful  Alleghany  ridges,  sombre  now  in 
theb:  deep  russets  and  browns  or  altogether  bare  of  foli- 
age. They  went  back  to  the  observation  platform,  for 
the  mountains  were  ever  new  and  grand  to  these  men  of 
the  western  prairies,  though  Seton  soon  found  the  air  too 
keen  for  him  and  urged  Dalton  to  come  inside  where  they 


THE  LEADER  331 

could  have  almost  as  fine  a  view  through  the  windows. 
But  John  loved  the  bracing  mountain  air  and  was  glad 
to  have  the  platform  to  himself  for  a  while.  In  all  these 
months  he  had  had  but  little  time  for  thought  and  often 
when  the  time  was  not  wanting  he  was  so  worn  out  that 
at  the  first  moment  of  quiet  he  dropped  into  heavy  slum- 
ber. Now  his  labors  were  over.  He  was  on  his  way 
home  where  he  should  take  up  his  law  practice  again  and 
live  quietly,  until  his  party  had  need  of  him  once  more. 

But  though  he  had  had  but  little  time  for  thought  in 
these  strenuous  months,  he  had  been  able  to  come  to  one 
conclusion,  he  no  longer  see-sawed  between  conflicting 
opinions.  He  was  now  firmly  convinced  that  Margaret 
was  engaged  to  Hugh;  on  no  other  hypothesis  could  he 
account  for  the  impenetrable  silence  at  Beauvoir. 

He  had  heard  from  Hugh  occassionally,  pleasant  little 
letters  always  including  a  mention  of  Peyton  and  Mar- 
garet, but  with  no  reference  to  any  engagement.  That 
did  not  affect  his  conviction,  however,  for  he  did  not 
suppose  that  Hugh  considered  himself  on  sufficient 
terms  of  intimacy  with  him  to  warrant  a  confidence. 
Frank's  letters  from  Julie  were  more  convincing.  They 
were  full  of  pleasant  gossip  about  the  Kentwick  circle, 
and  always  Hugh  and  Margaret's  names  were  bracketed 
together  in  her  accounts  of  rides  and  dinners  and  teas. 

For  Seton  was  engaged  to  Julie.  It  had  been  a  rather 
stormy  courtship.  That  letter  awaiting  Frank  at  the 
Holland  House  had  not  warranted  Dalton's  congratula- 
tions. It  had  been  only  another  bit  of  delicate  angling 
on  Julie's  part,  professing  her  own  unworthiness  and 


332  THE  LEADER 

fearing  Frank's  proposal  was  but  a  concession  to  his 
fancied  sense  of  duty.  The  difficulties  had  but  stirred 
Frank's  ardor,  and  Julie  was  besieged  by  a  perfect  whirl- 
wind of  letters  and  telegrams  until  at  the  end  of  two 
months  she  was  glad  to  capitulate  gracefully. 

The  courtship  was  conducted  entirely  by  mail  and 
wire.  Frank  pleaded  the  necessities  of  the  campaign  as 
an  excuse  for  not  appearing  in  person  to  forward  his  suit, 
but  the  facts  were  he  greatly  preferred  this  method 
which  spared  his  blushes  and  gave  him  the  advantage  of 
saying  exactly  what  he  wanted  to,  which  he  knew  would 
have  been  impossible  to  him  if  compelled  to  use  his  voice 
instead  of  his  pen. 

The  wedding  was  set  for  early  in  June,  and  was  to  be 
celebrated  at  Kent  Hall  among  the  roses,  since  Julie  was 
mistress  only  of  a  city  apartment  and  Helen,  who  had 
been  a  sort  of  fairy  godmother  to  her,  insisted  it  should 
be  at  Kent  Hall  and  be  lacking  in  none  of  the  lovely 
accessories  befitting  a  June  bride.  John  under- 
stood from  Frank  that  there  had  been  a  friendly 
rivalry  between  Helen  and  Margaret  as  to  wheth- 
er the  wedding  should  be  at  Kent  Hall  or  Beauvoir,  but 
that  Helen  insisted  on  the  right  her  superior  years  gave, 
and  Margaret  had  yielded;  and  John  could  easily  see  that 
the  friendly  contention  had  greatly  pleased  Frank  as  an 
evidence  of  the  esteem  in  which  his  fiance'e  was  held. 

John  was  thinking  of  the  wedding  now  as  he  sat  watch- 
ing the  stately  procession  of  mountain  peaks  circle  slowly 
by  him.  Frank  of  course,  was  all  excitement  about  it. 
His  last  remark,  before  pleading  the  cold  as  an  excuse  to 


THE  LEADER  333 

retreat  to  the  interior  of  the  car,  had  been : 

"I'm  glad  this  campaign  is  over.  Now  I  can  begin  to 
think  of  my  preparations  for  June — it's  high  time." 

John  smiled  as  he  glanced  through  the  window  and 
saw  Frank  seated  at  a  desk  entirely  oblivious  to  the 
grand  views  marching  by  the  wide  windows,  while  his 
pen  flew  over  the  paper.  John  did  not  doubt  he  was 
writing  Julie  about  his  plans  for  the  great  house  he  had 
been  talking  to  him  about.  Frank  had  heretofore  pre- 
ferred bachelor  apartments,  but  now  he  was  planning  a 
house  and  grounds  that  were  to  rival  Dalton's  in  grandeur 
and  Dalton's  had  been  his  hobby  for  years  and  the  show 
place  of  his  city. 

Thinking  of  Frank's  wedding  always  set  John's  pulses 
to  a  quicker  pace.  He  could  not  very  well  absent  him- 
self from  his  friend's  wedding  if  he  had  desired  it.  He 
was  to  be  best  man,  of  course,  and  he  believed  Frank 
would  refuse  to  be  married  if  any  untoward  circum- 
stance should  keep  him  away.  He  had  not  told  anyone 
of  the  quarrel  at  Beauvoir,  and  so  Frank  suspected  no 
reason  why  it  would  not  be  altogether  delightful  for  John 
to  be  present  at  his  wedding.  There  had  been  moments 
when  John  had  thought  he  would  not  be  able  to  go 
through  with  it,  and  on  some  pretext  or  other,  perhaps 
just  at  the  last  moment  when  it  could  make  no  difference 
in  the  arrangements,  he  would  find  means  of  escape.  But 
he  had  given  that  up  now.  He  said  grimly  to  himself  if 
Peyton  and  Margaret  did  not  want  to  see  him  they  could 
stay  away  from  the  wedding — his  first  duty  was  to 
Frank.  But  none  the  less  as  he  thought  of  June — still 


334  THE  LEADER 

seven  months  away,  but  drawing  swiftly  nearer  with 
every  whirl  of  the  old  earth  on  her  axis,  his  breath  came 
quicker  and  his  pulse  beats  were  stronger,  for  whether 
he  greatly  dreaded  it  or  strongly  desired  it  (and  for  the 
life  of  him  he  could  not  tell  which  feeling  was  uppermost), 
he  would  see  Margaret  once  more. 

It  was  to  drive  away  such  fancies,  as  he  called  them, 
as  these  that  he  bethought  him  of  his  mail,  and  sent  a 
porter  back  to  his  sleeper  to  bring  him  his  suit  case.  As 
he  took  his  letters  out  and  began  to  look  them  over,  one 
envelope  arrested  his  attention.  It  had  been  sent  first 
to  his  home  address,  then  followed  him  to  two  or  three 
places  where  he  had  been  making  speeches,  returned  to 
his  home  and  finally  forwarded  to  New  York.  He  did 
not  know  the  writing,  but  what  caught  his  eye  was  the 
original  postmark.  It  was  from  Margaret's  city,  and  he 
could  never  see  a  letter  from  that  city  without  a  little 
excitement.  He  saw  at  once,  however,  that  this  was 
a  man's  writing,  and  he  opened  the  envelope  and  drew 
out  the  letter  with  some  curiosity  but  no  premonition  of 
the  message  it  bore.  As  usual  with  him  in  receiving  a 
letter  from  an  unknown  correspondent,  he  glanced  first 
at  the  signature.  "Peyton  LeBeau !"  It  was  a  thunder- 
bolt from  a  clear  sky!  In  an  agitation  that  he  found 
difficult  to  control,  he  turned  quickly  back  to  the  first 
page  and  began  to  read. 

Peyton  had  begun  his  letter  by  telling  of  his  former 
note  sent  on  the  afternoon  of  the  quarrel,  but  just  too 
late  to  catch  Dalton.  He  told  him  also  he  had  desired 
many  times  to  send  him  another  of  the  same  purport,  but 


THE  LEADER  335 

he  had  been  prevented  by  circumstances.  Then  he  told 
him  of  the  contents  of  that  first  note — that  it  had  been 
written  with  a  two  fold  purpose :  first  to  tell  him  that  he 
had  been  guilty  of  a  great  blunder;  that  he  had  honestly 
supposed  his  sister  engaged  to  Mr.  Kent,  but  that  he  had 
discovered  his  mistake  after  Mr.  Dalton  had  left  the 
house  and  he  had  hastened  to  correct  it. 

John  could  read  no  further  for  a  while.  Margaret  not 
engaged  to  Hugh!  Then  was  his  world  turned  upside 
down  again.  For  the  first  time  in  many  weeks  he  allowed 
himself  a  few  minutes  of  golden  dreams — what  might 
have  been !  What  still  might  be — he  said  to  himself  with 
sudden  energy.  Then  he  resolutely  set  aside  the  dreams 
and  went  on  with  the  letter. 

Peyton's  second  purpose  had  been,  he  said,  to  make 
the  most  complete  and  contrite  apology  possible  for  his 
actions  of  that  dreadful  afternoon.  He  enlarged  upon 
that  point,  making  some  slight  excuse  for  himself  be- 
cause of  his  misunderstanding  about  Hugh,  but  not  on 
that  account  palliating  in  any  degree  the  enormity  of  his 
offence.  He  concluded  by  saying  that  he  hoped  some 
day  Mr.  Dalton  might  feel  like  renewing  the  friendly  rela- 
tions with  Beauvoir  that  he  himself  had  so  rudely  severed. 

So  far  Peyton's  note  gave  John  only  unalloyed  pleasure 
and  he  was  for  following  Frank's  example,  taking  poses- 
sion  of  a  writing  desk,  answering  Peyton's  note  at  once 
and  following  it  up  by  a  letter  to  Margaret.  The  blood 
was  racing  through  his  veins,  he  felt  twenty  years  young- 
er than  when  he  had  come  out  on  that  platform  to  watch 
the  mountains,  which,  by  the  way,  were  still  gliding 


336  THE  LEADER 

grandly  by  John,  but  had  lost  their  compelling  interest 
for  him. 

Then  his  eye  caught  a  little  word  at  the  bottom  of  the 
page  that  had  escaped  his  notice — "(over)".  He  turned 
the  page  joyfully,  expecting  more  happiness  in  store  for 
him  and  fell  into  a  pit  blacker  than  any  he  had  yet  known. 

"For  some  reason,"  wrote  Peyton,  "that  I  do  not  quite 
understand,  my  sister  has  strongly  objected  to  my  writ- 
ing you  this  explanation.  For  the  present,  therefore, 
until  I  can  find  a  convenient  opportunity  to  tell  her  my- 
self that  I  have  done  so,  I  think  it  would  be  better  that 
you  should  not  betray  me." 

What  meddling  little  imp  had  induced  Peyton  to  add 
this  postscript!  Certainly  he  was  himself  guiltless  of 
any  evil  intent.  Margaret  had  impressed  him  so  strongly 
that  she  did  not  want  this  note  written,  and  he  stood  in 
such  awe  of  his  sister  when  her  mind  was  set  on  any 
course,  that  it  may  have  been  only  a  little  cowardice  on 
his  part,  hoping  that  he  would  find  an  opening  by  which  he 
might  gently  inform  her  of  what  he  had  done  and  so 
escape  the  wrath  which  he  felt  sure  would  be  visited  upon 
him  if  it  should  be  first  blurted  out  by  Dalton.  Or  he 
may  have  had  what  seemed  to  him  a  very  deep  and  cun- 
ning design;  he  may  have  thought  that  telling  Dalton 
this  would  so  pique  his  curiosity  and  interest  that  he 
would  at  once  move  heaven  and  earth  to  get  back  on  the 
old  friendly  footing  with  Margaret. 

Whatever  his  idea  may  have  been  in  writing  that  post- 
script, it  certainly  had  an  effect  far  from  any  of  his  in- 
tending. Dalton's  humility  where  a  woman  was  con- 


THE  LEADER  337 

cerned  was  very  great,  and  it  was  a  towering  humility 
where  Margaret  was  concerned.  She  did  not  want  Pey- 
ton to  apologize !  Evidently  she  had  expressed  her  wishes 
so  strongly  that  Peyton  was  afraid  of  her  anger  should  she 
discover  what  he  had  done.  There  was  only  one  explan- 
ation for  that — she  wanted  the  past  irrevocably  closed. 
Well,  it  should  be!  And  then  he  fell  into  musings  as 
black  and  joyless  as  a  few  minutes  before  they  had  been 
golden  and  joyful.  He  would  answer  Peyton's  note  of 
course  and  at  once.  No  LeBeau  should  find  him  want- 
ing in  courtesy. 

Into  these  musings  Frank  broke,  stepping  out  of  the 
car  door  holding  an  open  letter  in  his  hand. 

"There's  a  bit  in  this  letter  may  interest  you,  John," 
he  said,  "shall  I  read  it?" 

"If  you  will,"  said  John,  rousing  himself  to  give 
courteous  attention. 

Frank  read: 

"I  am  just  about  convinced  that  Margaret  is  engaged 
to  Hugh,  though  she  has  kept  us  all  guessing  all  the  fall. 
But  something  she  said  last  night  almost  as  much  as  con- 
fessed to  it,  and  Hugh  is  looking  so  happy  these  days,  it 
is  next  thing  to  proof  positive." 

"That  explains  it!"  said  John  grimly  as  Frank  folded 
his  letter  and  returned  it  to  its  envelope. 

"Explains  what?"  asked  Frank  looking  up  keenly. 

"Oh  nothing — nothing  of  any  importance  at  least/' 
answered  John  carelessly. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE   DEUS   EX  MACHINA  ! 

What  Margaret  had  said  that  could  have  given  Julie 
the  impression  that  she  was  coufessing  to  an  engagement, 
would  have  puzzled  her  to  know,  and  if  Hugh  was  looking 
unusually  happy,  as  Julie  thought,  it  must  have  been  the 
inner  light  from  a  good  conscience  that  illuminated  his 
face. 

In  a  way  he  was  happy.  He  was  having  Margaret 
more  to  himself  than  he  had  had  her  for  years.  For  the 
first  time  since  he  could  remember,  he  told  Margaret, 
there  were  no  troublesome  suitors  hanging  around;  per- 
haps because  Margaret  did  not  seem  to  be  going  as  much 
as  usual  into  society,  where  suitors  most  do  congregate. 
She  excused  herself  from  dinners  and  balls  on  the  plea 
that  she  was  taking  The  Fair  seriously,  and  it  was  very 
exacting  of  both  time  and  strength. 

Hugh  was  seeing  more  of  her  also,  because  the  LeBeaus 
were  staying  on  in  the^  country  much  later  than  usual. 
Hugh  himself  made  his  home  at  Kent  Hall  all  the  year 
round.  He  disliked  the  city  for  living  in  and  loved  the 
life  of  a  country  squire,  as  Peyton  called  him.  The  Le- 
Beaus often  stayed  in  the  country  until  nearly  or  quite 
Christmas  time,  but  this  year  they  were  going  to  stay 
until  their  annual  migration  to  Florida  in  February. 
Very  likely  Hugh  did  look  happier  than  usual,  with 
Margaret  to  race  over  the  country  with  him  on  Old  Nell, 
and  to  be  allowed  to  come  home  with  her  from  these 


THE  LEADER  339 

bracing  rides  in  the  frosty  November  air  and  stay  to 
dinner.  Spending  the  evening  with  her  and  Peyton  and 
Tia  Elisa  around  a  roaring  fire  of  logs  was  much  better 
than  spending  it  alone  at  Kent  Hall  in  bachelor  state,  or 
even  than  running  into  town  in  his  motor  car  for  dinner 
with  his  sister  in  Devonshire  Place. 

But  if  Hugh  looked  happier,  it  is  certain  Margaret  did 
not.  At  least  Hugh  thought  he  missed  something  of  the 
old  brightness,  and  he  set  himself,  in  his  slow  way,  to 
work  out  the  reason  why.  He  had  heard  nothing  of  the 
quarrel  at  Beauvoir,  but  he  had  often  wondered  why  the 
acquaintance  that  had  seemed  well  on  the  way  to  friend- 
ship between  Margaret  and  Dalton,  should  have  beer^so 
suddenly  brought  to  a  close.  Hugh  was  very  certain 
that  the  Beauvoir  people  did  not  hear  from  Dalton,  and 
in  Dalton's  occasional  letters  to  him  he  had  never  sent 
even  the  conventional  message  that  might  have  been  ex- 
pected, to  either  Peyton  or  Margaret. 

In  the  light  of  his  own  experience,  there  was  only  one 
way  Hugh  could  account  for  it:  Dalton  had  proposed 
and  been  refused.  It  seemed  entirely  natural  to  him  that 
a  week's  acquaintance  with  Margaret  should  have  been 
quite  long  enough  for  the  birth,  growth  and  final  catas- 
trophe of  the  great  passion  in  Dalton.  He  had  seen 
others  fall  as  swiftly  under  Margaret's  enchantment — it 
would  have  seemed  more  strange  to  him  if  Dalton  had 
seen  so  much  of  her  and  not  succumbed. 

He  worked  it  out,  therefore,  very  satisfactorily  to  him- 
self, that  Dalton  had  been  over-impetuous  and  proposed 
too  soon — before  Margaret  knew  her  own  heart.  She 


340  THE  LEADER 

had  refused  him,  of  course,  but  had  hardly  expected  him 
to  accept  her  answer  so  readily  as  final.  He  had  gone 
away  and  then  Margaret  had  begun  to  discover  that  she 
was  more  deeply  interested  than  she  had  supposed.  He 
believed  that  Margaret  was  suffering  in  something  of  the 
same  way  in  which  she  had  innocently  caused  others  to 
suffer. 

If  Hugh  had  been  the  ordinary  discarded  lover  he 
might  have  gloated  over  this — feeling  that  a  just  Nemesis 
had  at  last  overtaken  her,  and  hoping,  perhaps,  to  secure 
some  advantage  for  himself  out  of  it.  But  Hugh  was  not 
the  ordinary  lover;  he  was  first  and  foremost  Margaret's 
devoted  and  lifelong  friend,  and  he  suffered  more  in  her 
suffering  than  in  his  own.  How  could  he  best  set  about 
to  help  her? 

It  had  taken  dear  old  Hugh,  as  Margaret  called  him, 
slow  of  brain  but  ready  to  act,  many  weeks  to  work  out 
these  conclusions.  Margaret  was  in  Florida  before  he 
had  finally  decided  that  her  malady  was  love  for  Dalton. 
It  took  him  several  more  weeks  to  settle  upon  a  remedy, 
and  Margaret  was  home  again  in  her  house  in  Devonshire 
Place  before  Hugh  had  come  to  the  determination  to  take 
upon  himself  the  part  of  Providence  to  these  two  friends. 

He  would  write  to  Dalton.  He  came  to  that  decision 
one  evening  at  a  dinner  given  to  Margaret  to  celebrate  her 
return  after  nine  months  of  virtual  absence  from  society. 
Hugh,  keenly  alive  to  Margaret's  social  triumphs,  missed 
the  sparkle  and  glow  that  had  so  dazzled  him  at  other 
dinners.  Not  that  she  was  dull  or  listless,  she  was  doing 
her  duty,  but  it  was  a  little  too  obviously  a  duty,  Hugh 


THE  LEADER  341 

felt. 

Hugh's  letter,  the  result  of  much  laborious  thought 
and  many  scratched  and  interlined  copies  which  found 
their  final  resting-place  in  the  waste-basket,  was  a  model 
of  cleverness  in  his  own  opinion.  It  was  not  so  bad,  and 
had  those  who  knew  him  best  read  the  letter  and  under- 
stood its  object,  they  would  have  found  it  hard  to  believe 
that  it  was  concocted  by  Hugh,  alone  and  unaided. 

"My  dear  Mr.  Dalton" — (Hugh  was  always  most  for- 
mal and  respectful  in  his  address  to  Dalton — not  because 
of  the  difference  in  years  which  was  really  very  slight, 
but  because  of  Dalton's  standing  as  a  power  in  the  polit- 
ical world. 

"The  spring  is  here  again,  and  Kentwick  well  worth 
seeing  at  this  time  of  the  year.  Your  friends  here,  in- 
cluding, of  course,  your  friends  at  Beauvoir,  are  hoping, 
now  that  your  campaign  labors  are  over,  you  will  find 
time  to  come  on  and  finish  the  visit  cut  short  last  July. 
Of  course  we  know  you  will  be  on  at  the  wedding  in  June, 
but  things  will  be  in  such  a  rush  then  there  will  be  no 
satisfaction  in  a  visit.  Miss  LeBeau  thinks,  perhaps, 
you  didn't  mind  having  your  visit  cut  short  last  summer, 
and  that  our  amusements  here  probably  seem  child's 
play  to  you,  but  I  don't  agree  with  her.  At  least  I  shall 
not  unless  you  refuse  to  come,  and  then  I  will  be  com- 
pelled to,  I  suppose. 

"You  will  find  us  just  about  as  you  left  us  last  summer. 
Miss  Delauney  is  the  only  one  in  the  least  changed,  and 
her  friends  all  think  greatly  for  the  better  since  the  en- 
gagement. Peyton  LeBeau  and  I  are  still  confirmed  old 


342  THE  LEADER 

bachelors;  Tia  Elisa  is  as  charming  as  ever  and  often  in- 
quires for  you,  and  Miss  LeBeau,  we  think,  is  looking 
better  since  her  Florida  trip — she  has  not  been  very  well 
this  winter. 

"I  shall  look  for  a  speedy  reply  and  a  favorable  one. 
You  will  not  disappoint  me?  I  want  to  prove  to  Miss 
LeBeau  that  I  am  a  better  reader  of  human  nature  than 
she  is — that  you  were  sorry  to  go  away  so  soon  last  sum- 
mer. Very  truly  yours, 

HUGH  KENT." 

"Now,"  said  Hugh  to  himself  as  he  sealed  and  directed 
his  letter,  "I  think  I  have  managed  to  put  in  several  neat 
little  hooks;  he  surely  ought  to  catch  on  one  of  them. 
Perhaps  he'll  discover,  what  I  believe  is  true,  that  Mar- 
garet was  piqued  at  his  going  off  in  that  abrupt  fashion. 
Very  likely  that  has  been  the  whole  trouble  and  he  didn't 
know  it.  Or,  if  that  doesn't  catch  him,  perhaps  my  little 
remark  about  Margaret  not  being  well  will — it  ought  to 
melt  a  heart  of  stone.  And  then  I've  provided  for  a 
third  contingency.  From  some  silly  remark  of  Julie 
Delauney's  the  other  evening,  I  was  afraid  she'd  been 
writing  Seton  that  Margaret  and  I  were  engaged.  I 
think  I  let  him  know  very  neatly  that  I  have  no  pros- 
pects." 

Hugh  thought  his  letter — of  which  he  was  not  a  little 
proud— all  over  again,  and  then  he  shook  his  head  slowly 
and  solemnly  as  if  lost  in  wonder  at  himself. 

"By  Jove!  Hugh,  old  boy!"  he  said  aloud  admiringly. 
'I'd  no  idea  you  were  so  clever.  One  of  those  hooks 


THE  LEADER  343 

ought  to  catch  him — sure!" 


Not  one,  but  all  three  of  the  hooks  had  exactly  the 
effect  Hugh  had  intended.  It  had  never  occurred  to 
Dalton  that  Margaret  might  feel  keenly  his  going  away 
from  Kentwick  without  writing  her  or  sending  her  any 
special  message  of  good-bye.  Now  that  it  had  been  sug- 
gested to  him,  he  did  not  see  how  she  could  have  felt 
otherwise,  and  he  reviled  himself  as  a  stupid  old  fellow. 
Also  Hugh's  information  so  cleverly  conveyed,  that  he 
was  not  engaged  to  Margaret,  brought  joy  to  his  heart. 
The  field  was  clear,  there  was  no  reason  why  he  should 
not  go  ahead!  And  last  of  all,  Hugh's  third  hook  buried 
itself  deep  in  Dalton's  heart.  Margaret  ill!  Could  it  be 
possible  that  she  had  suffered  as  he  had  suffered?  Up 
to  this  moment  the  thought  of  Margaret  suffering  had 
not  seemed  possible  to  him. 

Of  course  he  would  accept  Hugh's  invitation.  No,  he 
would  not  wait  for  June — he  would  not  have  waited  a 
day  but  for  seeming  too  unconventionally  eager. 

It  had  come  to  be  May  by  the  time  Hugh's  letter  had 
been  written  and  received,  and  the  LeBeaus,  after  the 
custom  of  many  generations,  had  gone  out  to  Beauvoir 
on  the  first.  Mrs.  Paxton  had  come  out  to  Kent  Hall  at 
the  same  time,  and  to  her  alone  and  under  the  strictest 
promise  of  secrecy  had  Hugh  confided  his  invitation  to 
Dalton  and  Dalton's  acceptance.  Hugh  was  rapidly 
developing  into  a  strategist  of  the  first  rank.  He  was 
planning  now  quite  a  spectacular  coup,  and  this  also  he 


344  THE  LEADER 

confided  to  Helen,  relying  upon  her  co-operation  in  carry- 
ing it  out. 

Dalton  had  set  his  own  time  for  arriving  and  it  hap- 
pened that  he  set  it  for  the  evening  of  an  event  that  had 
been  stirring  society  for  weeks  with  the  delightful  tre- 
mors of  anticipation.  The  younger  set  were  going  to 
give  "As  You  Like  It"  under  the  trees  at  Elmhurst; 
ostensibly  for  the  benefit  of  an  East  End  Day  Nursery 
much  patronized  by  society,  really  that  a  few  leading 
spirits  might  have  an  opportunity  of  displaying  their 
histrionic  talents,  which  they  fancied  remarkable,  and 
their  many  charms  and  picturesque  costumes,  which  were 
undoubtedly  of  the  first  quality,  since  nature  had  been 
prodigal  with  the  charms  and  allowances  and  bank 
accounts  had  been  sensibly  diminished  for  the  costumes. 

Perhaps  society  would  not  have  been  quite  so  keen  for 
mere  amateur  "dramatics,"  even  under  the  trees  in  May, 
but  tickets  could  only  be  bought  by  those  who  received 
invitations  and  not  to  be  seen  at  Elmhurst  that  evening 
would  mean  that  one  was  not  quite  within  the  pale  of  the 
exclusive  set.  Of  course  the  Kents  and  LeBeaus  could 
have  no  misgivings,  but  Julie  Delauney  declared  loudly 
that  she  had  not  been  sure  of  an  invitation  up  to  the 
minute  of  its  arrival  and  she  would  have  died  if  she  had 
not  received  one.  Which  was  only  Julie's  extravagant 
way  of  expressing  the  feeling  of  society  in  general. 

Elmhurst  was  half  across  the  county  from  Kentwick 
and  much  nearer  the  city.  Almost  en  masse  society  was 
going  to  dine  at  the  Country  Club  and  then  drive  over  to 
Elmhurst  close  by.  At  the  last  moment  Hugh  pleaded 


THE  LEADER  345 

an  imperative  business  engagement  as  excuse  for  not 
dining  there  with  his  sister  and  Margaret  and  Peyton  as 
had  been  arranged,  but  he  would  come  out  to  Elmhurst 
in  time  for  the  play.  Margaret  wondered  a  little  for 
Hugh  was  not  usually  a  devotee  to  business,  but  she  had 
no  suspicion  of  the  nature  of  his  engagement. 

Hugh  met  Dalton  at  the  station  in  the  city  and  hurried 
him  up  to  his  sister's  house  in  Devonshire  Place. 

"You've  just  time  for  a  quick  change  and  a  morsel  of 
dinner,"  he  told  him,  as  he  explained  in  full  the  great 
event  that  was  absorbing  society  that  evening. 

"You'll  meet  all  your  friends  out  there,"  he  continued. 
"I've  told  no  one  you're  coming  except  Helen — we  both 
thought  it  would  be  rather  nice  to  surprise  them." 

Dalton  thought  he  would  have  preferred  a  less  dramat- 
ic meeting  with  Margaret  than  to  come  upon  her  unex- 
pectedly with  the  eyes  of  her  whole  social  circle  focused 
upon  them,  but  he  was  not  going  to  demur  at  any  of 
Hugh's  arrangements,  and  he  had  sufficient  confidence 
in  Margaret's  self-control,  if  not  in  his  own,  to  believe 
her  able  to  prevent  any  occasion  for  petty  gossip. 

Tubbing  and  grooming  to  the  last  degree  of  perfection 
were  not  operations  that  could  be  greatly  hurried,  espec- 
ially when  one  of  the  two  men  was  in  such  a  state  of  excite- 
ment as  to  find  his  fingers  all  thumbs  in  the  matter  of  collar 
button  and  neckties.  Hugh  was  ready  first  and  would 
have  fretted  a'  little  at  the  delay  as  he  waited  for  Dalton 
in  the  hall  below,  only  that  Hugh  was  not  given  to  fret- 
ting. He  felt  himself  more  than  repaid  for  any  tax  on 
his  patience,  when  Dalton  finally  made  his  appearance* 


346  THE  LEADER 

for  he  was  feeling  all  the  responsibility  of  his  position  as 
sponsor  for  the  meeting  and  the  slightest  sign  of  careless- 
ness or  of  want  of  propriety  in  Dalton's  dress  to  suit  the 
occasion  would  have  annoyed  him  greatly.  It  was  quite 
with  a  feeling  of  pride  in  his  protege  that  he  ushered  him 
into  the  dining  room,  shady  and  cool  in  its  shrouding 
summer  linens,  and  as  they  lingered  a  little  over  the 
dainty  little  dinner  served  them  by  Helen's  cook,  old 
Chloe,  left  in  charge  of  the  house,  his  quick  and  appar- 
ently careless  glances  scrutinized  his  guest  keenly  and 
wonderingly. 

What  had  made  the  change  in  him !  Was  it  his  associa- 
tion with  those  New  York  people  last  fall  that  had  taught 
him  all  those  little  niceties  that  made  him  now  so  notice- 
ably well  dressed?  Possibly,  but  the  glow  and  sparkle  in 
Dalton  that  seemed  to  have  taken  years  from  his  age 
could  not  be  so  accounted  for.  No,  there  was  probably 
one  cause  for  it  all — the  expected  meeting  with  Margaret; 
and  Hugh  found  himself  feeling  an  unselfish  delight  in 
the  thought  that  Margaret  would  find  the  hard-working 
politician,  worn  with  his  labors,  broken  by  disappoint- 
ment, and  a  little  careless  in  dress,  transformed  into  the 
elegant  and  immaculate  man  of  leisure,  radiant  with 
hope  and  bearing  himself  more  like  a  conquering  hero 
than  a  timorous  suitor. 

They  lingered  longer  than  they  had  intended  over 
Chloe's  broiled  chicken  and  new  peas,  and  the  short  twi- 
light had  given  place  to  the  stars  before  they  found 
themselves  on  the  road  to  Elmhurst.  It  was  not  a  long 
drive;  the  car  was  in  splendid  running  order,  the  evening 


THE  LEADER  347 

air  blew  fresh  in  their  faces,  and  Hugh  was  in  the  highest 
of  spirits.  Dalton  was  talking  easily  on  many  topics, 
but  his  heart  was  beating  tumultuously  with  every  swift 
turn  of  the  wheels  bearing  him  nearer  to  Margaret.  He 
would  have  liked  to  sit  silent,  looking  at  the  stars  and 
thinking  long  thoughts  while  he  inhaled  deep  draughts  of 
the  air  laden  with  the  breath  of  rose  and  honeysuckle 
borne  to  them  from  park,  plantations  and  country  gar- 
dens as  they  flashed  by  them  in  the  dewy  night. 

As  they  neared  Elmhurst  they  overtook  two  or  three 
other  automobiles  and  carriages,  laggards  like  themselves, 
and  they  slowed  down  to  fall  into  line.  As  they  turned  in 
at  the  gate,  the  leader  of  the  line  took  the  left  curve  of 
the  circular  drive  and  the  others  followed  him.  Hugh 
knew  better.  He  was  at  home  at  Elmhurst  and  knew 
that  the  right  curve  led  off  towards  the  stables.  What 
he  did  not  know  was  that  this  road  led  also  directly  past 
the  spot  selected  for  the  play,  and  so  it  happened  that 
rounding  a  curve  they  came  in  a  flash  into  the  heart  of 
fairyland,  and  were  like  to  be  blinded  and  breathless  at 
the  unexpected  blaze  of  beauty.  Unconsciously  Hugh 
slowed  down,  and  so  though  there  was  less  than  a  minute 
from  the  moment  the  fairy  spectacle  flashed  upon  them 
until  they  had  rounded  another  curve  and  glided  away 
in  the  darkness  towards  the  great  barns, — they  saw  it  all 
with  photographic  distinctness.  The  terraces  at  the 
side  of  the  house  had  been  selected  for  the  play  and  no 
place  could  have  been  more  admirably  fitted  for  an  out- 
door theatre.  The  broad  lower  terrace  was  the  stage, 
and  growing  shrubbery  and  stately  trees  needed  but 


348  THE  LEADER 

little  additional  arrangement  of  laurel  screens  and  mossy 
seats  to  make  it  an  ideal  Rosalind's  bower.  On  the 
terraces  above,  and  on  the  verandah  above  the  terraces, 
was  seated  the  audience.  A  great  limelight  on  an  upper 
balcony  flooded  the  stage  and  threw  out  in  vivid  relief 
its  picturesque  groups  in  russet  and  green,  and  incident- 
ally the  brilliant  audience  whose  light  summer  muslins 
and  flower  hats  and  radiant  faces  were  like  a  great  par- 
terre of  wonderfully  beautiful  flowers. 

Guided  by  some  unerring  instinct,  John's  glance  had 
flown  straight  to  Margaret  and  rested  there  for  the  brief 
moment  of  passing.  She  was  seated  on  the  front  row  of 
the  lower  terrace.  Above  and  behind  her  rose  the  flower- 
like  background  of  a  bewildering  maze  of  many  colors 
and  many  faces,  to  John  but  a  foil  to  the  most  beautiful 
face  in  the  world.  She  had  been  so  long  only  a  dream  to 
him,  that  to  see  her  sitting  there  intent  on  the  play,  her 
lips  half  parted  in  a  smile  at  Jacques'  wit,  her  friends 
about  her,  Peyton  on  one  side,  Julie  on  the  other,  her 
face  half  turned  towards  him,  clear  cut  and  delicately 
tinted  as  a  shell  cameo  under  the  white  flare  of  the  lime- 
lights, seemed  to  him  too  strange  to  be  true. 

He  began  to  feel  himself  in  a  dream  and  was  still  half 
dazed  when  they  had  left  their  motor  car  at  the  stables 
and  walked  back  to  the  scene  of  the  play.  They  could 
not,  without  creating  a  disturbance,  hunt  for  seats,  so 
they  took  their  stand  beside  a  dense  column  of  chauffeurs 
and  coachmen  massed  on  one  side  of  the  audience,  and 
apparently  as  deeply  interested  in  the  stage  as  the  in- 
vited guests.  Standing  at  one  side  they  were  only  in 


THE  LEADER  349 

half  light  and  hardly  distinguishable  from  the  dark- 
coated  throng  of  which  they  formed  a  part.  That  was 
very  well,  for  had  Dalton  been  in  full  light,  he  would 
himself  have  inevitably  become  the  focus  of  all  eyes.  As 
it  was,  he  could  see  Marga  et  without  being  seen  and 
without  apparently  diverting  his  attention  from  the 
stage,  where  he  recognized  in  the  Rosalind  who  had  just 
entered,  the  pretty  debutante  of  last  year's  acquaintance. 

It  may  have  been  a  very  good  rendition  of  the  play; 
certainly  the  woodland  scenes  and  the  picturesque 
grouping  of  the  green  and  russet  figures  and  the  exquisite 
ballade  music  under  the  direction  of  a  thorough  artist 
could  hardly  have  been  improved  upon.  But  it  was  all 
lost  on  Dalton.  His  brain  was  in  a  whirl,  and  he  could 
hardly  have  told  whether  he  had  been  standing  there  ten 
minutes  or  an  hour  when  Hugh  aroused  him  from  his 
daze.  There  was  a  short  intermission  and  the  audience 
was  stirring  and  breaking  into  a  great  ripple  of  talk  and 
laughter. 

"Come,"  said  Hugh,  "We'll  go  and  find  Helen  and  the 
others." 

Margaret  had  turned  to  speak  to  Peyton;  her  back 
was  toward  them.  Suddenly  she  saw  Peyton's  face  light 
up,  saw  him  spring  to  his  feet  with  outstretched  hand, 
and  heard  him  say  in  his  most  cordial  tones : 

"Ah,  how  do  you  do?  This  is  a  surprise!  We're  very 
glad  to  see  you." 

She  could  not  tell  why  she  should  know  to  whom  Pey- 
ton was  speaking,  but  she  did  know,  just  as  certainly 
before  she  slowly  turned  as  when  she  found  herself  look- 


350  THE  LEADER 

ing  up  into  John's  glowing  eyes  looking  down  on  her.  In 
that  slow  turning,  with  her  face  growing  white  and  then 
red  again,  she  had  had  time  to  summon  all  her  will 
power  and  so  she  said  very  calmly,  as  she  extended  her 
hand — too  calmly  Hugh  thought,  who  was  watching  her 
anxiously : 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Dalton?    When  did  you  arrive?" 

But  John  would  have  none  of  her  formality.  Now 
that  he  was  actually  speaking  to  her  and  holding  her 
little  hand  in  his  great  one,  his  bewilderment  vanished 
and  his  sense  of  power  returned.  She  winced  a  little 
under  his  strong,  quick  grasp,  and  seeing  it,  he  dropped 
her  hand. 

"You  haven't  said  you  are  glad  to  see  me,  Miss  Le- 
Beau,"  he  said  with  his  whimsical  smile,  and  then  he 
turned  quickly  to  Mrs.  Paxton  and  Julie  without  giving 
Margaret  a  chance  to  reply. 

"I'm  glad  to  see  you/'  said  Helen,  with  her  soft  smile. 
"We  were  so  disappointed  last  summer  to  have  your  visit 
cut  short." 

"But  I'm  not,"  pouted  Julie.  "Why  didn't  you  bring 
Mr.  Seton  with  you?  I  don't  see  how  you  dared  come 
without  him!" 

John  thought  Julie's  engaged  airs  were  very  pretty. 
He  had  never  observed  her  very  closely  before;  he  looked 
down  on  her  now  with  a  new  interest  and  a  keenly  critical 
glance  accompanied  his  smiling  reply: 

"Mr.  Seton  would  certainly  be  with  me  if  he  had  known 
anything  about  my  coming.  He  was  summoned  to  New 
York  by  an  important  telegram  the  other  day.  I  fancy 


THE  LEADER  351 

it  was  from  his  tailor,"  he  added,  with  a  twinkle  in  his 
eye. 

Julie  blushed  becomingly,  and  then  others  in  the 
audience  began  to  crowd  around  Dalton,  eager  to  welcome 
him  back,  and  the  intermission  was  over  before  he  had  a 
chance  to  say  another  word  to  Margaret.  He  found 
himself  sitting  beside  her,  for  Peyton  had  insisted  on 
giving  up  his  seat  to  him,  and  to  his  surprise  he  was  feel- 
ing not  a  shade  of  that  embarrassment  or  awkwardness 
that  had  sometimes  assailed  him  in  her  presence.  He 
was  not  quite  sure  what  kind  of  a  reception  he  was  going 
to  have  from  her  when  they  should  be  once  more  alone, 
but  he  had  come  determined,  since  Hugh  was  not  engaged 
to  her,  to  leave  no  means  untried  to  win  her  for  himself; 
and  the  dauntless  courage  and  strength  of  purpose  that 
had  carried  him  through  every  great  crisis  of  his  life  was 
filling  him  now  with  the  old  fire  and  giving  him  uncon- 
sciously that  confident  bearing  that  was,  although  he 
did  not  know  it,  his  strongest  weapon. 

All  through  the  last  act — a  long  hour — Margaret  sat 
quietly  beside  him,  occasionally  exchanging  a  murmured 
word  of  comment,  her  eyes  on  the  stage,  but  her  mind 
utterly  oblivious  to  all  that  was  taking  place  there. 

For  a  long  time  she  was  very  careful  not  to  turn  her 
eyes  in  John's  direction  even  when  she  was  acknowl- 
edging some  murmured  word  from  him.  She  was  glad 
of  this  enforced  quiet,  giving  her  time  to  collect  herself 
and  arrange  her  thoughts.  They  had  been  a  maelstrom 
at  first.  What  had  brought  him  there!  How  did  he 
and  Peyton  happen  to  be  on  such  cordial  terms!  Should 


352  THE  LEADER 

she  be  still  offended  with  him  that  he  had  written  her  no 
word  since  that  unhappy  afternoon  last  summer,  or 
should  she  forgive  him?  What  did  that  radiant  air  of 
triumph  mean?  But  how  it  became  him!  She  had 
forgotten  he  was  so  grand  looking — for  no  other  word 
seemed  to  express  the  noble  bearing  of  his  fine  head 
borne  proudly  on  his  strong  shoulders.  She  stole  a  look 
at  him,  but  he  caught  her  at  it,  and  with  an  almost  imper- 
ceptible shake  of  his  head,  he  smiled  down  into  her  eyes, 
with  a  twinkling  smile  that  seemed  to  say — I  knew  you 
would  come  to  it  at  last! 

She  hardly  knew  whether  to  be  vexed  or  to  smile  back 
at  him.  Oh,  she  would  smile,  of  course;  it  would  be  silly 
to  be  vexed,  and  it  was  extremely  silly  to  feel  herself 
growing  so  red  under  his  glance.  Why  should  she  not 
look  at  him  if  she  wished!  She  would  turn  to  him  as 
often  as  occasion  seemed  to  demand  and  as  naturally  as 
Helen  was  doing  who  sat  on  the  other  side.  And  then 
for  the  rest  of  the  act  she  kept  her  face  turned  rigidly  to 
the  stage  and  all  that  John  could  see  as  his  frequent 
glance  rested  on  her  was  a  fluff  of  filmy  white  and  helio- 
trope, a  daintily  folded  ear  set  at  the  perfect  angle,  and 
the  soft  curve  of  an  exquisitely  tinted  cheek  and  throat. 

He  was  not  dismayed;  he  rather  thought  it  augured 
well  for  him,  that  she  did  not  dare  to  look  at  him.  He 
was  waiting  now  for  a  chance  in  the  course  of  the  play 
when  he  might  whisper  a  question  into  that  ear  turned 
so  invitingly  towards  him.  He  got  his  chance  when 
Jaques,  in  whom  Dalton  thought  he  recognized  the  young 
collegian  of  the  year  before,  was  arguing  with  Touch- 


THE  LEADER  353 

stone  the  respective  merits  of  the  "retort  courteous" 
and  the  intervening  stages  to  "the  lie  direct." 

"May  I  come  over  to  Beauvbir  to-morrow,"  he  mur- 
mured, "and  finish  the  story  I  started  to  tell  you  last 
summer?" 

Now  was  Margaret  in  desperate  plight.  This,  then, 
was  the  reason  for  his  coming!  She  was  still  angry  with 
him,  or  thought  she  was.  Should  she  say  "No"?  That 
would  put  an  end  to  it  all  finally  .Was  she  quite  ready  for 
that?  But  should  she  say  yes,  would  not  that  mean 
more  than  she  was  willing  to  mean?  Her  whole  future 
hung  trembling  in  the  balance  for  a  moment.  Then  she 
bethought  her  that  a  yes  need  not  necessarily  commit 
her,  while  a  no  would  irrevocably  shut  her  off  from  any 
chance  of  reconsidering.  Thought  is  lightning-like  in 
its  processes,  yet  it  was  an  appreciable  moment  that 
Dalton  sat  watching  the  dainty  ear  grow  rosy  red  to  the 
very  tip,  before  Margaret,  still  without  looking  at  him, 
nodded  her  assent. 

If  she  had  been  looking  at  him  she  would  have  seen 
the  expression  of  intense  anxiety  in  his  eyes  replaced  by 
a  flash  of  triumph,  in  its  turn  softened  by  a  sweeter  and 
stronger  emotion  as  his  glance  lingered  for  a  moment  on 
the  glowing  rose  of  her  half-averted  face. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

"  FOR  THE  LAND'S  SAKE  !" 

It  was  a  momentous  evening  for  others  in  the  Kent- 
wick  party  besides  Margaret  and  John.  Peyton,  having 
given  up  his  seat  to  Dalton,  had  strolled  away  with  Hugh 
to  one  of  the  verandas.  Neither  of  them  cared  particu- 
larly for  the  play,  which,  after  all,  was  undeniably  ama- 
teurish, and  they  were  well  satisfied  with  their  comforta- 
ble seats  and  liberty  to  light  their  cigars. 

It  was  in  response  to  Peyton's  inquiry  as  to  where  he 
had  come  across  Dalton  that  Hugh  told  him  of  his  invita- 
tion, and,  finally,  his  reasons  for  it. 

"I've  given  up  all  hope  myself,  I  suppose  you  know, 
Peyton,"  he  said,  "and  it  occurred  to  me  that  possibly 
Margaret's  not  seeming  perfectly  happy  this  winter 
might  be  the  result  of  some  misunderstanding  between 
her  and  Dalton  last  summer.  So  on  the  chance  of  it  I 
asked  him  up  here  to  give  him  another  try." 

Peyton  was  silent  for  a  full  minute,  then  he  said 
earnestly : 

"Hugh,  you  are  a  good  man!  I  have  never  known  r 
better." 

Apparently  he  was  about  to  say  more,  but  to  Hugh's 
astonishment  some  emotion  seemed  to  overcome  hin1 
He  bit  the  end  of  his  cigar  savagely,  muttered  somet1 ' 
about  its  being  a  beastly  one,  threw  it  away  and  lighted 
another  before  he  said  in  his  usual  tones : 

"Tell  Mr.  Dalton  for  me,  please,  that  I  hope  we  shall 


THE  LEADER  355 

see  much  of  him  at  Beauvoir  during  his  stay." 

Peyton  took  Margaret  and  Helen  home  in  his  machine 
and  Hugh  had  Julie  and  Dalton  in  his.  Margaret  was 
alone  in  the  tonneau  and  she  did  not  try  to  talk.  Hugh's 
car  was  keeping  far  enough  ahead  not  to  give  them  its 
dust,  but  not  so  far  but  that  the  sound  of  Julie's  light 
laugh  and  Dalton's  joyous  one  was  borne  to  them  at 
frequent  intervals.  It  stirred  her  pulses  more  than  she 
quite  liked  and  it  kept  her  musing  on  that  coming  inter- 
view until  unconsciously  she  began  to  look  forward  to  it 
with  less  of  dread  and  with  an  excitement  that  was  al- 
most akin  to  pleasure.  It  was  wonderful,  but  a  rush  of 
warmth  about  her  heart  assured  her  that  in  these  ten 
months  of  silence  they  had  not  grown  estranged.  Just 
where  the  threads  of  their  friendship  were  dropped,  had 
John's  strong  hand  picked  them  up  again  with  firm  and 
tender  clasp. 

The  sound  of  that  joyous  laugh  set  Peyton  to  musing 
also,  and  it  was  rather  a  silent  company  in  the  second 
motor  car.  Climbing  up  Clay-bank  hill,  steep  and  long, 
Peyton  had  to  resort  to  his  second  gear.  The  noise  of  its 
labored  chug,  chug,  shut  him  and  Helen  quite  away  from 
Yargaret  and  gave  him  an  opportunity  he  could  not 
resist. 

"Helen,"  he  said,  as  he  bent  his  head  toward  her,  "I 
V?)  not  think  Hugh  will  ever  marry  Margaret,  but  if  it 
-Id  be  Dalton  instead,  would  you  say  yes  to  that 
question  I  have  never  asked  you?"  Helen  looked  up 
half  tearful,  half  smiling :  "I  suppose  so,"  she  whispered, 
and  by  the  flash  of  his  lamps  Peyton  could  see  her  blush- 


356  THE  LEADER 

ing  like  a  girl.    And  then  she  sighed:   "Poor  Hugh!" 

The  rose  garden  at  Beauvoir  was  not  so  famous  as  the 
one  at  Kent  Hall,  but,  nevertheless,  it  was  very  beautiful, 
shut  in  by  high  box  hedges  and  now  in  the  late  May  riot- 
ing in  luxurious  bloom.  Rose  arches  covered  with 
crimson  ramblers,  pink  ramblers  and  white  Baltimore 
Belles  gave  entrance  at  the  middle  of  each  of  the  four 
sides  to  two  paths  of  close-cut  turf  bordered  at  intervals 
by  formal  box  and  bay  trees.  Where  the  paths  crossed 
at  right  angles  in  the  center  of  the  garden  was  an  old 
sun-dial;  and  in  one  corner  a  spreading  linden  with  a 
circular  wooden  seat  about  its  trunk  where  a  weary 
toiler  among  the  roses  might  rest  in  the  refreshing  shade 
and  drink  in  the  beauty  of  the  blooms. 

Margaret  did  not  expect  Dalton  until  late  in  the  day. 
She  thought  of  him  as  coming  at  the  same  hour  at  which 
he  had  come  before,  and  she  turned  over  in  her  mind 
which  of  all  her  summer  dresses  was  the  loveliest  that  she 
might  don  it  for  him.  And  that  was  no  indication  that 
she  had  decided  on  a  favorable  answer;  a  woman  is  never 
willing  to  discourage  a  suitor  by  making  herself  unattrac- 
tive. She  may  be  sorry  for  him,  but  she  does  not  wish 
to  make  her  "no"  the  easier  for  him  by  making  herself 
seem  any  the  less  desirable.  She  had  almost  decided 
that  it  should  be  "no,"  for  she  could  find  no  excuse  for 
Dalton's  long  silence,  but  none  the  less  she  was  mental- 
ly reviewing  the  comparative  attractions  of  a  creamy 
batiste,  covered  with  priceless  hand-embroideries,  or  a 


THE  LEADER  357 

simpler  organdy,  pale  heliotrope  flowers  scattered  over  a 
white  ground,  in  which  she  knew  herself  to  be  ravishing. 
She  had  about  decided  upon  the  heliotrope  as  more  of  a 
man's  gown,  but  in  the  meantime  she  was  restless  and  in 
her  simple  white  morning  dress  with  garden  hat  and  gloves 
she  sought  the  rose  garden  for  an  hour's  hard  work  in 
trowelling,  weeding  and  cutting  roses  for  the  house. 

The  garden  was  not  very  near  the  house  and  so  ab- 
sorbed was  she  in  filling  her  basket  with  fragrant  Jacque- 
minots, superb  Baroness  Rothschilds,  dainty  La  Frances 
and  Bridesmaids,  that  she  did  not  hear  a  horse's  hoofs 
upon  the  gravel  drive,  nor  Tia  Elisa's  cordial  greeting 
from  the  piazza  where  she  sat  with  her  knitting,  looking 
sweeter  and  younger  in  the  lovely  May  morning,  John 
thought,  than  he  had  remembered  her.  Tia  Elisa  chatted 
merrily  with  him  for  a  few  minutes,  showing  her  pleasure 
in  the  meeting,  and  then  she  said: 

"Margaret  is  in  the  rose  garden.  I  will  send  for  her — 
she  would  be  sorry  to  miss  your  visit." 

"Will  you  not  let  me  go  and  find  her,  please?"  inter- 
posed John  quickly. 

Something  in  his  voice  made  Tia  Elisa  glance  at  him 
keenly  out  of  her  kind  old  eyes,  and  his  eyes  replied  to 
hers  with  such  a  brave  confession  that  she  answered 
simply : 

"Yes,  if  you  like,"  and  fell  to  musing  soberly  over  her 
knitting  as  John  hurried  away  towards  the  rose  garden. 

Margaret  had  filled  her  basket  with  roses  and  now  was 
down  on  her  knees  vigorously  trowelling  up  some  lovely 
pansies  that  had  spread  too  rapidly  over  the  rose  bed 


358  THE  LEADER 

and  were  crowding  the  roses.  John's  footsteps  made  no 
sound  on  the  turf  walk  as  he  came  up  behind  her,  and  he 
stopped  a  moment  hardly  knowing  how  to  call  her  atten- 
tion, and  thinking  as  he  waited,  how  like  a  little  child  she 
looked  in  her  short  white  dress  bending  among  the  roses 
and  trowelling  so  vigorously  with  her  little  hands. 

Perhaps  she  felt  his  gaze  upon  her  for  she  turned  sud- 
denly and  looked  up,  and  at  sight  of  him  sprang  to  her  feet 
with  clasped  hands  and  a  look  almost  of  terror  and  yet 
'also  of  a  high-hearted  courage  that  refused  to  yield  to 
fear.  Her  garden  hat  had  fallen  back,  her  face  was 
flushed  and  rosy  from  her  work,  and  the  warm  morning 
had  set  loose  little  curling  tendrils  of  her  bright  hair. 
John  had  carefully  arranged  all  that  he  had  meant  to  say 
in  this  momentous  interview,  but  at  that  look  in  her  eyes, 
half  fear,  half  courage,  so  like  the  look  she  had  bent  upon 
him  when  she  had  thought  him  a  tramp,  his  carefully 
arranged  sentences  fled  away.  Instead  he  caught  her 
clasped  hands: 

"Peggy'"  he  cried,  and  could  not  have  uttered  another 
word  for  the  life  of  him. 

Startled  and  indignant,  she  tried  to  draw  away  her 
hands  but  he  only  held  them  the  more  firmly  for  a  minute 
and  then  he  let  them  go. 

"Will  you  come  and  sit  down  under  the  linden  yonder 
for  a  few  minutes?"  he  said  gently.  "I  have  something 
I  want  to  show  you." 

She  turned  without  a  word  and  walked  beside  him 
towards  the  linden,  wondering  that  she  was  not  more 
angry  at  him  and  remembering  how  she  had  been  so 


THE  LEADER  359 

annoyed  with  Hugh  for  wanting  to  call  her  Peggy,  and 
yet  thinking  shamefacedly  that  she  had  never  heard  any- 
thing sound  quite  so  sweet  as  her  childhood's  name  had 
sounded  in  John's  rich  tones. 

John  did  not  speak  either  in  that  short  walk.  He  had 
been  as  startled  as  Margaret  at  the  sound  of  "Peggy"  on 
his  lips,  but  it  was  always  in  his  thoughts  and  small  won- 
der that  it  had  escaped  his  control  at  this  unguarded 
moment.  But  it  had  changed  his  whole  plan  of  action. 
He  was  not  going  back  now,  as  he  had  intended,  to  the 
interrupted  story  of  last  July,  he  was  going  back  much 
further:  he  was  going  back  sixteen  years! 

He  waited  for  her  to  be  seated  and  then  waited  still 
longer  until  with  a  bright  flush  she  asked  him  if  he  would 
not  sit  down  too. 

"Thank  you,"  he  said,  and  then  to  Margaret's  amaze- 
ment, as  he  took  his  seat  beside  her  he  drew  out  his  watch. 
Was  he  going  to  time  this  interview,  she  wondered,  and 
felt  herself  curiously  indignant  at  the  thought.  But  he 
did  not  look  at  the  face  of  the  watch,  instead  he  opened 
the  back  and  held  it  towards  her.  What  she  saw  was  a 
shining  spiral  of  red  gold  hair  that  stirred  vague  memo- 
ries. She  looked  up  at  him  wonderingly. 

"Don't  you  recognize  it?"  he  asked  softly.  (He  did 
not  quite  dare  to  say  Peggy  again  and  he  would  not  say 
Miss  LeBeau.)  "A  little  girl  gave  it  to  me  sixteen  years 
ago.  I  told  her  then  that  I  would  keep  it  and  some  day 
when  I  was  President  of  the  United  States  and  she  was  a 
beautiful  young  lady,  I  would  come  and  call  on  her  and 
show  her  the  curl  and  say  to  her — 'Behold  the  talisman 


360  THE  LEADER 

that  has  brought  me  wealth  and  renown:  It's  not  the 
President  that  is  calling  on  the  beautiful  young  lady 
to-day,  but  it's  a  man  who  loves  her  with  his  whole  heart 
and  I  believe  has  been  loving  her  and  waiting  for  her  all 
these  sixteen  years.  He  has  been  disappointed  in  his 
ambitions — he  cannot  set  that  beautiful  lady  where  he 
had  once  hoped  he  might,  in  the  palace  of  the  Republic, 
but  do  you  think  in  spite  of  his  failures  she  could  love  him 
enough  to  share  his  destiny  with  him?" 

John's  voice  had  trembled  very  much  on  the  last 
words,  it  had  almost  failed  him  entirely  at  the  very  last, 
for  Margaret's  eyes  instead  of  looking  the  love  he  had 
hoped  they  would,  had  been  growing  wider  and  more 
wondering  through  all  his  long  speech.  And  she  did  not 
answer  him  at  all.  Instead,  she  said  with  look  and  voice 
of  great  amaze: 

"Are  you — are  you — my — ?"  and  then  she  stopped- 

"Yes,"  said  John  gaily,  glad  of  the  little  break  in  the 
tension,  "I'm  your  tramp." 

But  at  that  Margaret's  eyes  fell  and  a  rich  color  slowly 
rose  to  her  temples.  "I  did  not  mean  my  tramp — I 
meant  my — hero,"  she  faltered,  in  a  tone  so  low  John 
could  hardly  catch  it. 

He  seized  her  hands  once  more,  and  this  time  they  did 
not  struggle  to  be  free.  "Do  you  mean  that,  Peggy? 
Do  you  mean  I  was  ever  your  hero?"  And  in  the  passion- 
ate exaltation  of  the  moment  the  years  fled  away  from 
him  and  Margaret  looking  up  wondered  that  she  had  not 
always  known  him,  so  strongly  he  looked  like  the  young 
man  marching  out  to  conquer  the  world.  They  were 


THE  LEADER  361 

brave  eyes  she  lifted  to  his,  and  she  tried  to  answer  very 
steadily. 

"Yes,  for  sixteen  years  I  have  been  trying  to  make 
every  man  measure  up  to  my  hero,  and  always  failed 
until — until — " 

But  there  her  courage  oozed  away  again  and  her  eyes 
fell  again. 

"Until  what,  Peggy?"  John  insisted  softly,  for  belonged 
to  hear  the  words  he  hoped  she  would  say. 

"Until — you  came,"  she  whispered  under  her  breath, 
and  then  looked  up  at  him  with  dancing  eyes  where  love 
and  a  daring  spirit  of  mirth  struggled  for  the  mastery. 

The  dew  was  still  on  the  grass,  the  cardinals  were  still 
fluting  their  morning  song  in  the  hedges  and  a  saucy 
mocking  bird  still  riotously  carolling  his  love  madrigals, 
as  John  and  Margaret  came  out  of  the  rose  garden 
under  an  arch  of  white  Baltimore  Belles  that  might 
have  fitly  made  a  wedding  arch. 

Down  the  veranda  steps  came  Tia  Elisa  hurrying  to 
meet  a  visitor  coming  up  the  gravel  drive.  At  sight  of 
Dalton  the  visitor  stopped  short. 

"For  the  1-a-n-d's  sake!  what  brought  you  here!"  said 
the  visitor. 

"Miss  LeBeau  brought  me,"  said  John  looking  down 
on  Margaret  adoringly  but  also  mischievously. 

Tia  Elisa  looked  up  startled  and  then  her  hand  sought 
Margaret's  in  a  tender  clasp,  while  a  soft  flush  mounted 
to  her  sweet  blue  eyes. 


362  THE  LEADER 

But  it  was  Miss  Molly  who  blushed  the  most;  not  dar- 
ing to  look  up  from  the  ground  so  great  was  her  em- 
barrassment, although  she  was  not  so  overcome  but 
that  she  was  able  to  murmur,  in  her  politest  tones : — 

"For  the  land's  sake!" 


A    000  052  022     1 


